Sketchbook Revelations
by PolkaDotMama
Summary: Jasper makes a confession to Edward that changes their lives forever. When words fail they rely on their sketches and more to reveal their inner most secrets. Their unique friendship grows and transforms. Can it endure the sketchbook revelations? M AH/AU
1. Coffeehouse Confessions

**Title:** Sketchbook Revelations  
**Author:** PolkaDotMama  
**Summary:** Jasper makes a confession to Edward that changes their lives forever. When words fail they rely on their sketches and more to reveal their inner most secrets. Their unique friendship grows and transforms. Can it endure the sketchbook revelations?  
**Rating:** M, NC-17  
**Relationship:** Edward/Jasper  
**Warnings:** Angst, slash, hate speech, violence  
**Genre:** Angst, Romance  
**Word Count: **~289,000  
**Disclaimer:** Stephenie Meyers owns these boys. No copyright infringement or offense is intended. As for my fan fiction, it is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0. Unported License. Share it, attribute it to me, but please don't try to profit.  
**Betas:** mcsc08 and Touchstone67. All remaining mistakes are my own.

**Notes: **This story was started in July 2009 and completed just over a year later. It was the first fictional piece I had written in ages and my writing style greatly improved as I worked on this story. Because of that, I recently edited Sketchbook Revelations. However, I didn't want to lose all the raw, naïve moments I put in the story as I found my voice, but I just couldn't allow some things to remain. If this is your first time reading, no worries. If this is a repeat read, and I know there are a lot of you out there, *waves* you may see some differences. Edit dates are posted at the end of each chapter. If you notice any mistakes and want to let me know, I'd love a PM so I can make the changes. I'm sure I've missed a ton with a story this long.

Thank you. Enjoy!

~Posy

***If you want to read this with all drabbles and outtakes combined in the proper places, or if you easily want to download SR to read on your e-reader, computer, or phone, go to http:/archiveofourown .org/works/361004/chapters/585474 to download the entire SR universe.

* * *

**Coffeehouse Confessions**

I was on my third cup of coffee and he still hadn't said a word. As hard as it was, I was trying to give him time to work up to the conversation he obviously wanted to have, but it needed to be on his terms. During my wait, I had memorized the design on the table, the photographs on the wall, and the placement of the barista's numerous piercings. I could see fifteen on her head alone, and I suspected she had more.

Jasper had been acting really weird for the last month or so. I had tried to dismiss it as his stress over not receiving the financial aid he had expected and needed. Some of his grants and scholarships ended up not coming through so he was stuck with a huge amount of debt he had had to pay with his credit card, and Jasper was freaked out by credit. When I had tried loaning him the money he refused, telling me, "I don't want your fucking charity." He had always insisted on paying his way, even back in high school, and I had to respect that.

Jasper and I became friends when he moved from Texas to my small town of Forks, Washington. We were both fifteen and really into art. Being a small town, Forks had a lot of jocks and some nerds, but very few artistic types like us. We were kind of the freaks of Forks; at least that's what we thought because we were often ridiculed about our need to draw. When Jasper first arrived, I saw him carrying around a large, black sketchbook everywhere he went, his eyes always on the ground as he walked, like that would keep others from noticing the new kid. I carried around my art as well, but in the form of a small Moleskine® journal that easily fit in my back pocket.

I was curious about what he drew. When he sat at my lunch table that first week, I thought I would get the chance to see, but he guarded it with his life. Pulling my journal out, I had started to sketch as soon as my food was gone, drawing for the rest of lunch period, peeking over at his work whenever he looked away. That was my pattern for the next two weeks.

Eat. Draw. Peek.

Occasionally, I'd see him glance over at my Moleskine® journal, quickly returning his eyes to his own. Then he came to me, curious about my work. When I showed him my latest piece, he reciprocated. After becoming fast friends, we have been practically inseparable for the last seven years. We double dated for Prom, went to the same university, hell, we even lost our virginity with the same girl. And just in case you were wondering, yes, it was on the same night.

Things haven't always been great between us. Remember, I said practically inseparable. There was a time Jasper stopped talking to me for a month or two. When we first started at the University of Washington, we finally met people who got us. Our weird, artistic selves were accepted, appreciated, and even revered by some. We were no longer scorned for being quirky guys, not even realizing how stifled we had felt until we were allowed to fully express ourselves in our dress, music, and of course, our art. The freedom I felt, gave me the strength to admit what I had hidden and denied for years.

On our drive home for Christmas, I came out to Jasper. We had barely left the Seattle city limits when I told him. Perhaps I should have waited, but Jasper was my best friend, and it just didn't feel right to lie to him like I had lied to myself for so many years. I told my family that week as well. I guess my parents already knew. Well, they had suspected as much. My mom told me she started to suspect it not long after Jasper moved to town, telling me I acted differently around him than my other guy friends. I guess I did, but I thought that was because he was my best friend and we knew things about each other no one else knew. Of course, I would act differently around him. That night my mom and dad told me they loved me and how proud they were I was able to be honest with myself. I knew I was lucky to have them.

Jasper's reaction to my revelation came as a surprise to me, refusing to talk to me the rest of our journey home. I had to keep my eyes on the road, but whenever I could spare to look away, I tried to read the emotions on his face, which was difficult when he didn't want you to. Most of the time his face was an open book, but as soon as the words "I'm gay" left my lips, that book slammed shut. Although our families got together during the holidays, he managed to be busy with his sister or excuse himself to go do homework.

It hurt, I won't lie, but my family was very supportive. My cousin Alice suspected that Jasper probably thought I had sexual feelings for him and my outing just freaked him out. The truth was, I did have feelings for Jasper. After the discussion with my parents, I realized they were right. I'd felt something for him since that first day in the cafeteria. He was fascinating to me, especially the intensity of his blue eyes. Over the years I had tried to deny my attraction to him, throwing myself into a few intense relationships, but they never fully satisfied me.

I had been nervous about driving back to college after Christmas break. He was still quiet, but no longer silent. Arriving in our apartment that first night back, I was expecting Jasper to be more guarded with his body. He had always been sort of an exhibitionist, but I thought my disclosure would make him think twice about how much skin he showed around me. That night, to my shock, he walked across the apartment to the shower in all his naked glory, as usual. Apparently he was comfortable, at least with me seeing his body. The situation in my pants was something else entirely, so I quickly rubbed one out while he showered, fantasizing about what he was doing in there the entire time.

The next several weeks he had concentrated solely on schoolwork, claiming to have a very heavy workload. Doing my best to not feel hurt by the strain in our relationship, I reminded myself he was working to process everything, so I just tried to be myself, treated him the same as I always had, and gave him space. I started to sketch more and spent many evenings in the on-campus art studio painting and drawing. One day I walked back into our apartment and the old Jasper seemed to be back. Nothing was ever really discussed, we were just best friends again, which was a relief because I didn't think I could handle his near-silent treatment for the rest of the year.

Through that experience, more than any other, I learned Jasper just needed time to adjust to things, and I've always tried to give that to him. Which was why I was still sitting on the bench that had made my ass numb despite the cushion. Getting up, I gave him a reassuring smile and a quick squeeze on the shoulder as I went to refill my coffee cup. When I got back to the table he was leaning forward, hands folded in front of him with his eyes blazing. He wasn't angry; he was just very intense and thoughtful. It looked like he was about to talk, so I simply looked into his eyes, trying to convey the message he could talk to me about anything.

"I have some questions for you," he finally got out, voice cracking a bit.

"Okay, what sort of questions? I mean, did I do something? Am I in trouble? Did Jessica tell you I kicked her out of the house a few weeks ago, because I'm sorry about that, man," I rambled. "I'm just so sick of waking up to that girl in the house. You know I like to sleep nude. Walking out to her drinking coffee was just a bit of a shock that morning, because I didn't know she was there. Sorry, man." I wasn't really sorry. She was getting annoying and it was my damn house so I should be able to walk around naked as a jaybird whenever I wanted. Full disclosure, she was always annoying, but Jess was Jasper's girlfriend. I had no idea why though. She was insecure, whiney, and did I say fucking annoying yet?

"No. That's not it. We aren't even together anymore, thank God." News to me. He rung his hands together and then rubbed them on his thighs. Whatever this was, it was really getting to him.

"Do you remember going to the bar about six weeks ago with Emmett, Ben, and Mike?" Jasper asked and I nodded. We hadn't been out together as a group for a long time. Our senior year didn't afford us much down time, so it had been a good break, most of our time there had been spent catching up on our lives and the rest of the guys deciding which chick they wanted to take home.

"I remember. Why? What's up?"

"I don't know if you saw it, but Mike and I talked." I had sat across from Jasper and noticed he and Mike had gotten into a serious conversation. It hadn't been heated so I hadn't thought anything about it and tried to give them their privacy. That had been the only thing out of the ordinary that night.

"Yeah, I saw. What did you guys talk about in your quiet conversation? Your whispers?" I laughed, trying to lighten the mood. He was so damn serious he was making _me_ sweat.

"We were talking about my failed financial aid. He has struggles with money too so he gets it, you know? Well, I guess he heard about what happened and we were talking about some ways to make money. He's done a few things like selling his plasma and … other stuff." His entire face flushed. I didn't see what was so embarrassing about selling plasma.

"Okay," I replied limply. He took a few breaths and ran his fingers through his blonde curls. I wanted to reach across the table and smooth my thumb across his cheekbone to help him relax, but I didn't think that would go over too well.

"So he told me about this modeling job. Basically you go to a casting call and well …." His whole face was red and the flush was starting to creep onto his chest.

What ever he had to say was really freaking him out. "Hey, you don't have to be afraid to tell me. I'm your best friend. We've been through thick and thin together. Just take it slow." I hoped he felt the calming waves I was trying to send his way.

"Okay, man. Just promise me you won't hate me."

"No problem." This was getting weird.

"So I went to this 'modeling' job. It wasn't really a modeling job at all, but I kind of knew that before I went."

I wasn't really following, but the use of air quotes made one of my eyebrows rise. Jasper had modeled for agencies and art studios, so I didn't see how this job would be so different to warrant finger quotes.

"Basically," he continued, "I sat down on a couch while this guy was video taping me. He told me I could make two hundred dollars if I jerked off while he taped me." He paused, looking at his folded hands on the table. "Well … I did it."

I used every ounce of strength to keep my face neutral. This was _very_ different from being a nude art model and it surprised me. Yet, he needed to confess, get this off his chest, and it was my job to listen without judgment.

"A week or so later, the director guy called me to come back. He wanted me to jerk off in the same room as another guy. He called it a duo. I'm used to walking around naked in front of you at home and posing at the studio, so I figured this wouldn't be that much different. So I go and meet this other guy I'm supposed to do the duo with, James. He and I sit on the same couch, and the guy asks us to undress and start jerking off. They had a porn video running to help us along, because you can imagine it's a bit nerve wracking."

"I bet it was," I offered.

"So I'm stroking away next to James and as soon as my soldier is saluting, the director guy starts upping the ante. He offers us another hundred if we jerk each other off. So, now it's up to three hundred bucks—I didn't have to think long—I reached over to James and took over for him, and he did the same to me. So in less than two weeks I had five hundred dollars. Easy money, right? Well, that's what I kept telling myself."

I opened my mouth to ask a question but was met by his hand, stopping me cold.

"Let me finish. I can't stop now or I'll never get through to the most important part. Anyway, they post these videos on their website and my videos got a lot of hits. Pretty soon people were requesting to see me again. Some people were hoping I'd become one of their regulars. I didn't know if I should be flattered or disgusted, but I needed the money so I went back. They put me with James again, gladly, because that way, at least I knew the guy. We were both new to this and nervous. So we start the same way, stripping, stroking, and helping each other. Then the director—his name is Jake by the way—well, he tells James to suck my cock. I told him no way in hell is a man going to suck my cock. No offense Edward."

"None taken."

"I protested until he brought up the money again." Jasper nervously bit his lip. "So we sucked each other's cocks, and I ended up with another five hundred bucks."

Jasper's eyes were full of worry. They darted around the coffeehouse making sure our semi-private booth in the corner hadn't been infiltrated. I felt bad for him. I wished he had just come to me for money or accepted it when I had offered. This could have all been avoided. I took his hand in mine and he grabbed onto it tightly, holding onto me like he had fallen off a cliff and I was his savior. We hadn't even gotten to the questions he mentioned he wanted to ask at the start of this conversation, so I knew there must be more.

"Then Jake offers a grand if I would top or fifteen hundred to bottom." His resolve broke and a sob escaped. I got up from my seat and slid in next to him, putting my arm around his shoulder. I pulled him close to me and gently shushed in his ear.

"Jasper, it's okay. I don't think any less of you because of this. I would never think less of you." Trying to lighten the mood I said, "I've never once been offered that kind of money to bottom. And believe me, there were times I should have been paid" I deadpanned.

He laughed in spite of himself, eyes reddening, and pulled back a bit from my embrace, still allowing me to keep my hand on his shoulder.

"The thing is, Edward, I liked it," he whispered. "It felt good. I mean … all of it."

"Well, of course it feels good. You don't fuck because it feels bad. It feels great, amazing even. Gay men aren't gluttons for punishment, you know." He smiled at me with teary eyes. I grabbed a napkin and handed it to him, giving him a minute to recover. "Can I ask, did you do it then? Top or bottom? Only if you want to share," I backpedaled.

"Christ, Edward. If you wanted you could go online and see the entire video. It's not really a secret. The site is _Broke Straight Dudes_. But to answer your question, I bottomed." His eyes suddenly were very interested in the sugar packets on the table.

"Well, I won't go and watch anything." Not that I wasn't curious as hell. I could only imagine the fantasy fodder that would be. "I'll respect your privacy, Jasper." The last thing he needed was to think I was going to go and watch something he was clearly conflicted about.

"This explains your pensive moods lately. I thought it was simply a money problem, but now I see there was more going on. I'm glad you finally felt like you could come to me about this. But you said you had questions, and so far I think I'm the only one who has asked any."

"Okay, Edward. This is hard. Maybe you should be on the other side of the booth so I can see you better." Slipping out, I made my way back to my original seat. He reached out and grabbed my hand. His tense eyes met mine and he smiled. "Let me just get some of my main questions out of my head right away and you can answer them how you see fit, okay?" He continued without waiting for an answer.

"How old were you when you knew you were gay? Were you ever attracted to women? How did you know you were gay? Did you ever wonder if you were bi? Have you ever been attracted to me?" He blushed furiously again. The last question was mumbled, but I understood.

"That was a lot of questions. I'll try to answer them all. Let's see … I think I always knew I was different. Hindsight tells me I knew I was gay when I was fifteen, but I wasn't able to really admit it to myself until right before I came out. I appreciated a woman's beauty but not in a sexual way. I can appreciate the curve of a woman's breast and see she is beautiful, but it's more like looking at a preliminary sketch of a masterpiece. When I see a beautiful man it's more like listening to a symphony live, feeling the music deep in my soul. Because of that I never thought I was bi. Things were pretty cut and dried for me. I knew I was gay because I didn't fit the mold of the people around me, you know, the heterosexual mold. I didn't know where I did fit in, except for as your friend. But when I got to college, I saw there were other molds that did fit me. It was refreshing and empowering. I discovered more things about myself my first quarter than I probably learned prior to that in my life." I purposefully avoided answering his last question.

Jasper's words poured out of his mouth with passion and spirit. "I've done nothing but discover new things about myself this last month. I've realized I like to suck another man's dick, for God's sake. I like it! Now, that was a shocker. I can understand getting off on someone sucking my rocks off, but the fact that I like to suck cock scared the shit out of me. The sex felt good, but I was in a strange place with a camera pointed at me, taking close-ups of my ass and everything. That was just weird."

I couldn't imagine having such a sacred moment being taped up-close. My heart broke for Jasper for having to experience something that could be so wonderful in such a creepy and vile way.

Japers took in a shaky breath. "I've found myself looking at men in a different way."

I was stunned into silence, barely breathing. I thought he was simply asking about my experience for curiosity's sake, to help make sense of his unique and impersonal experience. What was he implying? Was this more than him trying to work through a strange, public sexual encounter? Was he questioning his sexuality?

He lowered his gaze, his voice barely above a whisper. "I look at you differently, Edward."

I leaned forward and took his hand in both of mine, looking over his entire face, trying to read what his heart was feeling. "Jasper, I can see you're questioning yourself. I'm not sure if answering your last question will help or hinder your self-discovery. But I want to be here for you and help you if I can."

He swallowed thickly, studying our joined hands, seemingly lost in their detail. An unsteady breath was drawn in and his shoulders rose and fell, but the intake did nothing to calm him as his hand began to shake when he drew it away.

"Jasper, look at me." He slowly looked in my eyes with apprehension and I could see how conflicted he was. I knew I needed to be honest with him, especially after the deceit he had recently experienced.

"I have been in love with you for years. I have mourned again and again over the loss of what could have been _if only_ you weren't straight. I want to help you through this Jasper, but my heart can't be neutral. My desire to be with you as a partner is just too strong. I wish I had the answers you're seeking so you could know. Then I could know. But please, _do not_ fuck with me. If you are serious about exploring these new feelings I would love to be there for you as your friend, to help you better understand yourself, and to see if maybe we could ever be more. But if you're just experimenting, I need to know right now. I cannot weep another night over the loss of the possibility of your love." My head felt heavy. All I wanted to do was lay it down on the table and rest. I finally admitted what had been hidden in my heart for seven years, and now I was absolutely terrified I would be hurt and rejected, possibly even lose my friend. The weight on my soul pushed my eyes closed and I hung my head, awaiting his response.

Feeling him slide in next to me, his hand gently touched my cheek as he moved my face toward his. I opened my eyes at his touch and saw his eyes burning, smoldering. His tongue gently touched his lower lip as he leaned close to me, maintaining eye contact, until his lips met mine in a tender embrace. Opening his mouth, his tongue swept across my lips until I let him in. Our tongues met, searching, exploring, trying to find answers.

Without a thought, my fingers grasped his golden curls, realizing fantasy was being blown away by reality. His hair was so soft. As I tightened my fingers into his thick mane pulling him closer, our kiss deepened, open and passionate, our breaths quickening, but neither of us was willing to pull away just yet. His hand trailed down my chest, resting on my heart, which thundered, trying to keep up with my mind. Deeper and more passionate yet, our tongues entwined content to play and dance across each other, sensing subtle texture and distinctive taste. His teeth gently gripped my bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth where he sucked tenderly. Slowly pulling away he began kissing across my jaw to just below my ear.

"I think we should leave. Now," he whispered in a low, husky voice.

"Are you sure about this, Jasper?" I wanted to give him an out, just in case.

"Are you kidding? I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

* * *

**Edit 1/9/2012**


	2. Bedroom Confessions

**Bedroom Confessions**

Driving back to our house, Jasper held my hand, rubbing lackadaisical patterns across my fingers. My heart was practically jumping out of my chest in excitement and sheer terror. What was I getting myself into? I felt like I was jumping out of an airplane without a 'chute.

My hand gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white, while my mind was telling me to get off this train and be logical. It was my heart that was on the line and my relationship with my best friend. Jasper was just confused by his experience and I was a safe person to fall into. But that safety for him was pure danger for me.

My body was yelling at my heart and mind and telling them to "shut the hell up" so it could realize the fantasies I had been having for years. My cock twitched at the mere thought of Jasper's kiss back at the coffeehouse. It was better than anything I had ever dreamed about and my dreams had been quite vivid.

I quickly parked the car and walked to the front door of our house. As I fumbled with my keys, Jasper slid his warm hand under the hem of my shirt and skimmed up my stomach making me nearly drop my keys. I recovered, but only after the keys bounced from hand to hand, finally landing in the center of my palm. I unlocked the door as quickly as possible, but before the door was even shut, Jasper pulled my shirt over my head. Turning around to face him, his lips crashed into mine, both of us open and eager for the contact. Deep and hungry we kissed with more passion than I knew was possible, biting and tasting each other's anxious mouths.

Jasper made quick work of my belt and fly and before I realized what happened, my pants dropped to my ankles. Kicking my shoes across the entryway, I stepped out of my pants and then pulled his shirt over his head. I had to touch his chest. Pushing him against the door, I ran my fingers across his shoulders and torso feeling the strength in his muscles under his soft, smooth skin. Running my hands around his waist, they moved down to grab his ass. His bare ass? He had stripped completely in the few moments I had taken to explore his chest.

Never leaving my mouth, he started walking me backward toward my bedroom, going just slow enough so I wouldn't trip. As soon as I felt my knees hit the back of the bed, he pushed me onto my soft, king-sized mattress. I scooted into the center and he quickly climbed on top of me, his cock rubbing against mine. "Oh fuck, Jasper!"

He ground his rock hard dick into me again and we both moaned. This was just too much. Christ! What was I doing? Too fast! I wanted to let go and just give in to my body, but I needed to be careful too. I deserved to be happy, but my mind wouldn't shut up.

_Seriously! You need to talk. Ignore the cock for a few minutes and talk to the man._

To my body, this felt so right, spiritual. This _should_ happen. However, I had to know what was really going on in his head. He had said he was sure about this, but what was he sure of exactly? Was I sure about this?

He kissed across my jaw and moved toward my ear. I knew that if I didn't stop him now and allowed him to hit the sweet spot on my neck that drove me crazy I would never be able to stop him.

I pushed one of his shoulders, rolled him onto his back and straddled him while I sat up and held onto his shoulders. "Jasper, we have to stop. This is going too fast." I panted, trying to gather some resolve as I looked into his blue eyes. "I don't want to stop," I growled, "but we really need to talk." He reached up with both hands and stoked my nipples with a brush of his thumbs. My head fell back. "Ung. Please, Jasper," I pleaded.

He dropped his hands down to my thighs and rubbed them gently. Stopping his hands' movements by threading my fingers through his, we allowed ourselves a few minutes to relax our labored breathing. I knew we should have this conversation fully clothed and in a common area of our house, but I had imagined Jasper naked in my bed so many times that I dismissed my prudence and decided to go with the flow.

"Jasper, I really need to know what you're feeling right now. And I don't mean hard and horny." We both smirked, and feeling his hard length beneath my ass, I decided to move next to him on the bed to not tempt fate further than I had already. His face turned serious and he knew a talk was in order. So, we both turned on our sides to face each other, elbows bent to rest our heads on our outstretched hands.

"I'm sorry Edward. I'm sorry if I've confused you. I mean, I just told you about my whole _Broke Straight Dudes_ experience, asked a few questions, and then started kissing you. While I've had weeks to think about this, you've only had, what," he glanced at his watch, "twenty-five minutes? I'm sorry." He buried his head in my shoulder.

"Don't get me wrong, Jasper. I _have_ thought about this," I pointed between our bodies, "for years, but I never thought that it would happen. I gave up hope years ago, so it feels like we went from zero to sixty in twenty-five one-hundredths of a second. It's all a bit much," I admitted. "You're my best friend, Jasper, and I don't want to lose that. Before you were ever a fantasy or the person I desired sexually, you were my friend."

Jasper leaned in close and kissed me on the forehead and started rubbing my back. It felt so good to be close to him. I shivered, either from cold or the shock of the situation, and Jasper quickly pulled my comforter over our naked bodies. He rolled onto his back and I laid my head on his chest and a hand on his stomach. We rested like that for several minutes, breaths finally slowing and finding a matching rhythm before Jasper started to speak.

"Edward, I've never met anyone like you. You let me be myself in every way. Even when I was a major dick to you after you came out, you let me be and gave me the time I needed to process my feelings and come to you. No one understands me like you do. That goes back to my first two weeks in Forks. You sat with me everyday and sketched next to me at lunch until I was ready to talk. It's like you just got me without me ever having to explain."

Moving a hand up to my messy, bronze hair, he started to finger it, gently scratching my scalp every now and then. I felt safe in his arms and listening to his breathing calmed me. Smelling his scent on his chest gave me a sense of peace, too, as it washed over me, and I felt the muscles in my entire body relax and smooth out.

"I don't know why I even took Mike's information about the job in the first place. He told me it was a gay site, and despite that, I decided to go. In fact, that didn't even bother me, now that I think of it. I was desperate for money, mind you, but I've used my body for money before, so I didn't think much of it.

"You know, when you came out?" I knew it wasn't really a question so I remained silent, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought. "I remember going over the previous years and wondering if you were into me. That terrified me, but in some ways, it opened me up to seeing myself in a new light. I had always thought you and I were really close, straight friends. But after you came out, I started noticing that our friendship with each other was different from other friendships. First off, we spent almost all of our time together. I mean, we were practically inseparable. Fuck, we still are." We both chuckled. "Plus, we did things together that other guys didn't do, like touch. We never got paranoid when we would hug. We even held hands. Like when I wanted to show you a new CD, I'd lead you to my room holding your hand. It wasn't a big deal. When we watched movies we would sit close to each other under a blanket and it didn't even need to be a scary movie." He laughed.

"I guess I didn't realize how weird it was until we got to college and I saw other guy friends around each other. It was like the only physical contact they allowed themselves had to include some sort of slap. You know, the man hug, a slap on the ass? I know we didn't have a ton of physical contact when we were in public, but when it was just us, we did. Maybe that's why your parents already knew you were gay. I'm sure they're just waiting for my declaration," he sighed.

I realized our physical relationship was unique, but I had always attributed it to me being gay and my unconscious need to touch him. Thinking back, I realized that he initiated touch just as often as I did.

At that moment my body betrayed me, thirst taking over and demanding to be heard. "Do you want something to drink?" I asked rising from the bed. "Beer. Wine. Whiskey. Water."

He laughed at the myriad of selections I offered. "I'll take a beer, unless you want to open a bottle of wine."

Walking to the kitchen, I opened a bottle of Merlot that we had been saving for a special occasion. I figured with the amount of soul searching and spilling that Jasper was doing, this was, indeed, a very special occasion. Pouring the wine into two stemless wine glasses, I headed back to my bedroom. When I walked in, Jasper was lying on his back, hands behind his head looking up the ceiling. His body was beautiful, like a swimmer's: broad shoulders, cut pecs, and pale, smooth skin. He met my eyes and scooted over so I had some more room on the bed and leaned against the headboard. Mimicking his position I handed him his glass and he looked at me expectantly.

"To revelations." I raised my glass toward his.

"Revelations. You've got that right." We gently touched glasses and looked at each other as we took our first sips. After a few more swallows, we set our glasses down on the bedside tables and I turned onto my side facing him, looking in his eyes.

I started. "Ok, so where were we before my parched body needed a drink? Oh yes, my parents. I don't really know what my parents think about our relationship or if they suspect you're gay or bi or straight. I mean you dated girls, some seriously, and I never did. They probably think you're straight. I mean, why wouldn't they? I pretty much kept to myself until college. You were really the only person I hung out with in high school. I'm sure they knew how much I wanted you, but they never said anything to me. If you or I were on vacation my mom would hug me more than usual and comfort me. It's almost as if she knew I was sad we were apart. It's so weird to think about how much she knew before I did."

"Okay, here's a confession you might be interested in." Looking up, I saw a sparkle in his eyes. I was intrigued and curious to have this conversation face-to-face, so I sat up and crossed my legs, sitting across from him. "Lauren…," we both threw our heads back in laughter, "virginity-taker extraordinaire. She seriously should have had business cards printed up on bone stock typeset in Silian Rail. Perhaps with a watermark." We both fell over laughing, tears filling our eyes. Catching his breath, Jasper continued, "She certainly was an American psycho right there in Forks. I'm surprised we escaped that little encounter without some sort of uncomfortable rash."

It was amazing how easily our conversation came even after such an intense night of admissions. This was one reason why Jasper was my best friend. We could talk about something extremely serious one minute and move on to gallows humor the next. Some of our friends just didn't get that, but it made perfect sense to us.

"Okay, okay. I have to stop laughing," Jasper tried catching his breath. "I really do have something to say about Lauren." Taking a deep, cleansing breath, he continued. "That night was strange. I know a lot of teenagers lose their virginity in a room with their friends. It's not that unusual when true privacy is at such a premium, but that wasn't what was strange. We were watching some movie. What was it?"

"The Breakfast Club. I think it was on every five minutes that week. It probably still is, but it's a good movie," I admitted despite myself and stared unveiling my memories of that night. "I was getting into the movie when I heard some strange noises. I turned my head to look over at you and Lauren, and all I saw was your white ass. As soon as I saw your hips thrust forward, I stopped watching the movie completely and stared at your ass the entire time you two were going at it. I remember not being able to look away. It was like my eyes were glued to your butt cheeks. Mmmmm." I confessed. He playfully hit my shoulder.

"Well, now for my confession of that same night." He flushed and smirked at me. "I remember getting up to go piss after I was unceremoniously taken on the couch. When I came back into the room, she was straddling you. You were laid back on the couch, had your eyes closed, and I made my way down toward your feet and started to watch your dick go in and out of her. You were all wet and shiny from her and I just stood there with no shame, watching. If either of you would have seen me, it would have looked like I was just checking out the action." He shrugged. "I was really only paying attention to you. I watched how your muscles moved, how the closer you came to orgasm your balls tightened up, and I watched your face as you came. I felt ashamed for watching you experience something so powerful and intimate so I quickly got out of the room before you realized I was there. I've thought about that moment several times over the years, but this last month I've pictured your face as you climaxed again and again."

My mouth dropped open as he revealed his voyeurism and much more. He reached over with a finger and gently closed my mouth. He smiled at me and my voice returned. "Wow. So, are you saying that maybe you had some sort of fascination with me back in high school like I had for you?"

"I don't know, Edward. I mean it's not like it was at the front of my mind. I didn't give it a ton of thought because most of my sexual energy went into the girls I was dating. I didn't jerk off to visions of you or anything like that, if that's what you're asking." I shook my head. "Like I've said, we were just different. Our relationship hasn't really fit into a category that a lot of people would understand. I'm sure if Mike or Emmett saw how close we sat the other night watching The X-Files, they would have had some smart ass comment. I just don't know."

Finally, I decided that I had to ask the obvious question and address the elephant in the room. "So, do you think you're gay or bisexual?"

He furrowed his brow and took a deep breath through his nose like he was concentrating very hard on something. "Right after I sucked off James and realized I liked it, I would have either told you I was straight or bi, depending on how honest I was being with myself. I've been asking myself this same question … several times a day, in fact. Toward the end with Jessica, I was having a really hard time even getting aroused. That could have been her or me. I'm not sure. She was fucking crazy. But I'm noticing men a lot more than women lately." He reached for his wine and took a long sip.

Looking up at me through his dark lashes, he confessed, "The one person I've watched and been turned on by lately is you, Edward. I see you walking around the apartment naked and I get hard. After I bottomed for James, I came home and you had just gotten out of the shower. You barely had a towel wrapped around your waist on your way back to your room. It had fallen really low on your hips, and I could see your pubic hair peeking above the towel. Then you turned around and … Oh, God! I immediately went to my room and polished the helmet. I thought about your body the entire time. Not a woman's. Not James'. It's like that place did something to me." He looked almost worn out.

I grabbed his hand. I wasn't sure what I was seeing, but I wanted him to see my sincerity at that moment. "Jasper, what they did to you was coercion. They took advantage of your need for money and exploited you." His eyebrows stitched closer together and he started to part his lips. "Just let me finish. I have great respect for you, Jasper. I understand why you did it. You want to do things on your own. That is one of those things that makes you such a great person." My thumb caressed his cheekbone and his face softened. "I need to know one thing. Do you think that you'll go back to that place?"

"Fuck no," his face was set and serious. "I have no desire to disgrace myself again. I took the bad luck of losing my financial aid and turned it into something even worse. Now the image of me being fucked is going to be online for the rest of time," he took a shaky breath. "I just hope our friends don't ever see it. I know there's a huge disparity between posing nude for art classes and porn, but going there did open me up to a part of myself that I may not have ever discovered otherwise." His face softened and he gave me a small half-smile.

Sitting in my slowly darkening room, a calm serenity fell over us. Pulling him back down to the bed, I rested my head on his chest once again. I rubbed my hand over the subtle rise and fall of his abs, curling my fingers in the downy hair below his navel. My fingers followed the lines of the well-defined V of his hips. Looking up, I saw his eyes drifting closed and felt his chest rise and fall in a satisfied and sleepy sigh. His hand roamed down from my shoulder to the small of my back and up again, continuing the circuit and relaxing me toward sleep.

"Edward?" He said seriously and I gave him my full attention. Taking a few deeps breaths, his face eased into a small smile. "To answer your other question, I'm not sure if I'm bi or gay. I just know that I will never again call myself straight. So, for that realization, I have to be thankful for my experience."

I pulled him closer into my body and held him tightly, hoping my touch conveyed my acceptance and appreciation for him and his words. I felt a few wet tears fall onto my shoulder and I lifted my head to kiss them away.

"You are a better man than I, Jasper," I said before he chuckled wryly. "I have to admit that I have a lot of anger at what Jake and that website did to you. I saw how tortured you were these last weeks. Some days, you were just a ghost of yourself, and I was so worried."

"That really had less to do with that place than it did with me questioning my own truth, Edward. Before I went there, I was sure I knew what my path was, and then it was totally diverted. It just took me some time to see that the new path I was on didn't lead into a dark, scary forest. I found that my new path could lead me to you." He reached over to cup my cheek and placed a soft, gentle kiss on my mouth. I lingered for a few moments before pulling away.

"How much more money do you need for school? I'll loan you the money and you can even pay me interest if you want. I'm sure I have enough in my savings. Please let me do this for you," I pleaded.

"I need about five thousand dollars. I appreciate that you get my need for independence, but as you see, I really do need some help. If I can't get any more jobs through my modeling agency, I may have to start brewing coffee and pulling espresso. Even doing that is going to keep me close to broke. You have no idea how much this means to me. Even though it's hard, I'll accept your help, Edward." He was somber, resigned.

"This is really bothering you; I can see. You know, I don't know where we're headed. I mean, are we going to try to start something?" He smiled at me before I quickly continued. "I don't want us to start out with a power differential, and me giving you money would definitely do that. Let's talk to my parents this weekend. I don't want something as stupid as money to get between us. I want us to have a fair chance. Let's see if you can set something up with them so we can just be … us. How does that sound?"

"That sounds so much more appealing. I can handle a business transaction with them." He took a big breath and his face broke into a big smile that lit up his entire face.

I was exhausted and my body betrayed me with a gigantic yawn that carried its contagious effects to Jasper. It felt like we had about five days worth of conversations in about two hours. Slipping further under the covers and pulling Jasper down with me, I wrapped my arms around his lean body and gently kissed him.

"Edward?" I hummed my response, eyes closed. "I would really like to be with you." I looked up, meeting his beautiful blue eyes. "I would like for there to be an us. Do you think you're ready to try having a relationship with me?"

My arms wrapped around him tightly as our legs tangled together. His eyes burned into mine with an intensity and serenity I had never seen before. "There is nothing I would rather do than to have my best friend be my lover. We have been good together from the start. I think we can be great together."

"I know we can." Our lips met in languid kisses until we fell asleep in our lover's embrace.

* * *

**Edit 1/9/2012**


	3. Studio Revelations

**Studio Revelations**

My eyes opened to the sun shining through my bedroom window, and looking at the clock, I realized it was already after ten. I ran my hand over the sheets next to me and felt the coolness under my palm and forearm. With my eyes still shut, I leaned forward and buried my nose in the soft, flannel sheeting, searching for Jasper's scent. As I breathed in his earthy aroma, I realized that last night really did happen, his essence washing over me—both calming and exciting me.

I couldn't believe Jasper had finally come to me. Hope had been lost years ago, and now here it was again. Hope mixed with a bit of uncertainty, but at that moment, I was too psyched to think about it.

Walking into the kitchen, I found a note sitting on the counter.

_Edward,_

_Waking up next to you this morning felt so right. It took all of my strength to leave you. My last class gets out at four, so I'll see you soon after. Dinner tonight?_

_Desperate to hold you again,_

_Jasper_

Reading the note, I knew exactly how he felt. I couldn't wait to have him in my arms again, to pick up where we had stopped last night.

I had no classes that day but needed to spend some time working on my portfolio. Rather than heading to campus to work, I decided to head out to our home studio in the backyard. Our studio was located in a quaint building we designed that would have worked well as a large greenhouse in a sunny locale. Here, in Seattle, it served our needs by letting natural light through the numerous windows lining the walls and ceiling. Jasper and I both ended up pursuing degrees in art, the thing that initially brought us together. He was getting his fine arts degree in graphic design, specializing in typography. My degree would be in media arts and illustration. My true love was cartooning, and I had hopes of getting syndicated.

Unlocking our studio and walking through the door, I had an overwhelming sense of Jasper's presence. Looking around I could see his touches everywhere. A large "E" and "J" he designed were both pinned to a wall, a green tie was hanging from a hook, and his favorite charcoal, cashmere sweater rested on the back of his chair. I always felt close to him here, but today I experienced something more. I ran my hand over the soft cashmere before I walked around and opened all of the blinds and shades, allowing the natural light to pour in.

I strolled back over to Jasper's desk and started to page through his latest sketchbook. Ever since those first weeks in high school, we had given each other carte blanche with our sketchbooks. We loved to share our work with each other, and our sketches became glimpses into our lives. You could tell what struggles we were working through and see what was important to us at those times. This was one of the unique ways we shared our feelings with each other. At times, more could be revealed with our sketches than words could convey, but now, we would have another way to share our feelings with each other.

Touch would become our new medium.

Turning back a few pages, I saw that he had drawn my hands. It must have been while we were working in the studio together, because I was holding my favorite art pencil. On the next page, he drew my eyes deep in concentration, my brows furrowed and eyes intense. It made me wonder what I was thinking about. Maybe that was one of the many days this last month that I was worried about what had happened to my best friend to cause him such distress.

On the next, I found that Jasper had drawn me nude except for a towel slung very low on my hips. It was from behind, my back exposed and the two dimples above my ass on display. My hair was in full disarray, and I was looking over my shoulder at him. I wondered if this was drawn the same day he had had sex with James. Was this what he described to me last night?

I continued to page through his book and saw snippets of my body on every page. Sometimes it would only be a small rendering in the corner amidst another design he was working on for school. One page was full of the letter E in various fonts, upper and lower case, and right in the middle was my profile. Other pages were all me.

Silent tears started to fill my eyes. When they fell to the table, I was surprised they had escaped.

Looking at the dates Jasper placed on the lower right hand corner of every page, I could see he had been processing his feelings for the last month. It probably started the day he first stepped foot onto that "set."

Any doubts or fears I had about him vanished. Each drawing was done with great care. These weren't the quick, messy sketches of someone simply trying to get an idea down on paper before it left his mind's eye. These were meticulous. Hours had been spent drawing various parts of my body. Studying me. Representing me. I knew that those hours were not simply spent working on his craft and technique. Those hours were spent thinking about his subject. He was thinking about me, what I meant to him, as his smooth pencil touched the silken paper. These were rendered with care and love.

Touching my face to dry my tears, I was surprised at how many must have fallen. This man that I have loved for seven years cared for me. He might even love me. The joy that my heart felt at that moment was indescribable.

_How would I work today?_

Sitting in Jasper's chair, I reached over to his supplies and grasped his most used pencil, placing it under my nose. I could smell his faint scent on the unfinished wood mixed with the heady scent of graphite. Running my fingers along the shaft, I could feel where the oils from his skin had burnished the texture to a velvety smoothness, coloring it a bit darker than the rest of the wood. Closing my eyes, I rubbed the pencil over my lips, relishing its feel against my sensitive skin. My tongue darted out of my mouth, taking a quick taste of Jasper's unique flavor left behind.

My left hand fell to the desk and bumped into something cold and smooth. Opening my eyes, I reached toward a metal picture frame that was a new addition to his desk. There we were at about age seventeen, sitting inside a small, red rowboat, oars resting across our legs. We were wearing only our low-slung board shorts and huge-ass smiles. We were at a small, private lake that summer, spending a rare vacation together. My mom had taken the photo before we left for an afternoon of gliding on the water and drawing. Our arms were wrapped around each other, hands not minding where they landed. My right hand lay right across Jasper's nipple. His left hand rested near my hipbone in the crease between my thigh and lower stomach. Taking in the photo, I laughed, only then realizing how intimate that moment truly was. My mother had this hanging in her home, enlarged to an eleven-by-seventeen. I wondered how many people looked at that photo over the years and saw what I was only now seeing for the first time.

I searched Jasper's shelves for older sketchbooks. There were so many, but he kept them organized by year, so finding the one I was looking for was easy. I found one he started in mid-September the year he moved to Forks and opened it. Looking at the pages, I recognized many of the drawings. He shared some of these with me the first day we talked.

Quickly, I replaced that book after paging through only half and grabbed the book setting just to the left. Nothing looked familiar. I saw cattle skulls and fence posts, guitars and skyscrapers. This had to be from when he lived in Texas. Flipping to the back of the book, I saw mossy tree trunks, sloping terrain, rainy windowpanes. This was Forks.

Turning the page, I saw my fifteen-year-old body hunched over my Moleskine® journal at the lunch table. The fingers of my left hand were threaded through my messy hair. I looked at the date: _3 Sept 2002_. His first day of school in Forks, the first day I sat next to him at lunch and tried to peek at what he was drawing. I never got a look at that sketch until that moment because, by the time our open book rule had been established, a new sketchbook at been started.

I saw something in those sketches that answered questions I didn't even know I had. From the beginning, I was as important to Jasper as he was to me. Our connection was strong and real. In the last month, he truly had been thinking of me. Images of me monopolized his sketchbook, the window to his soul. I was right there on every page. I was right there inside his soul.

I was thankful to be sitting down at the moment as I made these realizations because I'm not sure that my legs would have supported my weight if I had been on my feet. This was big. Seriously, this was huge. Tears spilled down my face again, wetting the front of my t-shirt and blurring my vision. I didn't know what I was feeling; words weren't coming to me. As desperately as I wanted to use my pencil or paints to express these new emotions, I was shaking too much. I needed to talk or just be held, but the person I wanted to comfort me was unavailable right then.

Drying my face and taking a few shaky breaths, I locked our studio and made my way into the house to shower and get dressed. Soon I was running my fingers through my always-messy hair as I made my way to the garage, trying to tame the wet strands. Sitting in my silver Volvo, I turned on some music and started on my journey.

There was only one other person in the world, besides Jasper, who could give me what I needed at that moment, my mother. Just last year, my parents moved away from Forks and decided to settle closer to me, to my delight. My father easily fit in at Seattle Children's Hospital and Harborview Medical Center, and my mother's influence in the art community was greatly appreciated and gladly received. Being an only child, I was close to my parents, and it was a relief to not have to travel so far to see them.

Pulling into their secluded drive, I saw that my mother's laser blue Mini Cooper S convertible was parked outside. I pulled in next to it and took a few moments to calm myself. I didn't want to walk into the house and scare her with my emotional intensity; she didn't need to think that something was wrong. Nothing was wrong. In fact, everything was right.

I walked toward my parents' front door while my eyes took in the quarried stone and warm wood that made up the facade of the modern home my mother helped design. This house was the culmination of years of thought. She had been dreaming of this home since she was a child, always loving postmodern design. Entire walls were made of glass, letting in as much light as possible in the dreary Pacific Northwest. Those windows were what inspired Jasper and me to build our studio.

The door opened before I knocked and I was met with the beautiful face of my mother, Esme. Her warm, caramel locks gently rolled over her shoulders, and she smiled at me with kindness and genuine delight.

"Edward. To what do I owe this wonderful surprise?" She pulled me into her, hugging me close and kissing me on the temple. Loosening her grip a bit, she kissed me on the forehead and then looked in my eyes. I could see she was trying to read me. "Oh, sweetie," her voice pitched down.

My tears could no longer be held back. Thick and fat they fell from my eyes, and I felt my mother's arms pulling me through the entryway and leading me into the family room. She guided me into the soft, leather cushions of the couch and gathered me into her shoulder, hands weaving through my hair and stroking down my back as she hummed a soft melody I recognized from my childhood.

I'm not sure how long I cried, being comforted in her arms, but eventually, I was ready to sit up. I dried my tears and she gazed at me with sincere sympathy. "Do you want to talk about it?"

That was the wonderful thing about my mother; she always let me decide if I wanted to talk. She didn't ask me what was wrong or try to dig things out of me; she just asked if I wanted to talk. I knew I could always say no, and that would be fine. Perhaps, that's how I learned what Jasper needed as quickly as I did.

Breathing deeply through my nose, I began, "I'm not sure I have the words. I'm really crying tears of joy, Mom. Oh, I wish I could tell you everything," I said with frustration. I couldn't betray Jasper's trust. He had only told me about his feelings only the day before, and I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate me outing him to my parents. With care, I continued.

"I just started seeing someone." She smiled at me urging me to continue. "He's everything I've ever wanted." He was the only person I had ever wanted. "The closeness I feel to him is so complete and overpowering that it scares me. I want this to be forever."

"Oh, Edward, I'm so happy for you. I can see you sparkle. I've never seen you this emotional over someone. Ever. Well, maybe Jasper, but never anyone you've dated." I tried my best to hide my expression and not show my surprise at how attuned my mother was with my feelings for him in the past. "But why the tears?"

"I just discovered that his feelings for me … well, they might mirror my own. That's all I can really say now. Things just so over-powered me this morning that I didn't want to be alone. You've always comforted me, even during those moments I didn't realize I needed it," —like when I was a boy missing Jasper. Pulling her close, I gave her a quick kiss before wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug. "Thank you. I love you."

Tears glistened in her eyes. "I love you, Edward." Seeing that my crying jag was over, she started pulling me toward the kitchen. "Have you eaten lunch yet?" I shook my head. "Well, let's see what we can whip up. How about chicken salad sandwiches and fresh fruit? We can use our left over garlic chicken breasts from last night. Your dad tried something new on the grill and it was a huge success. Come on, help your mom with the chopping."

I grabbed a large knife and set to work. Soon our sandwiches and ripe strawberries were ready so we dished up our plates and made our way into the dining room.

"Edward, when do you think we can meet this man of yours? What's his name?"

"For now, I want to keep his name private." I took a quick sip of my freshly squeezed lemonade. "About meeting him, I'll need to talk to him about that. He still hasn't come out to anyone but me, so I'm not sure how soon it'll be."

My mother looked at me with concern. "Be careful, Edward." I opened my mouth to protest, but she persisted. "You're very open with your sexuality and comfortable in your own skin. If this man isn't willing to let other people know about your relationship, this could create animosity and friction between you two. He should be proud to tell the world that Edward Cullen is his boyfriend, because you are an amazing man."

"Mom, it's just very new to him. He's just coming to terms with his sexuality."

The worry on her face grew as her brows stitched close together. "Edward," her voice nearly sounded mad. I reached for her hand; she grasped mine in return. "This is not a game. This is your heart. I don't want to see you aching like you did in high school over Jasper. If this man has just admitted he's gay, he's working through a lot. That is a big transition, and I don't want you to end up being his experimental toy."

I squeezed her hand tightly and saw the worry in her eyes. She wasn't angry. She was scared for me. "It's not like that, Mom. I mean, I was afraid it could be like that initially, but today, all of those fears and doubts dropped away. That's why I was crying. It was relief," I sighed. "I wish I could tell you everything. I want to let you know everything that's happening, but I really need to see how he feels about my sharing. I probably shouldn't have come over here. I'm sorry."

"No, honey. I'm glad you did. I'm here for you anytime, and I'm sorry I got all 'Mama Bear' on you. It's very hard not to sometimes." She smiled and rubbed my hand.

"I'm sure it is. Everything is so new with him, so we haven't had all of the important conversations yet. Thanks for reminding me to have them."

Putting the last dishes into the dishwasher, my mom said, "You know, Edward, when the time is right, why don't you bring him over and we'll have brunch or dinner here. Nothing too formal. I don't want to scare him off if he's this important to you."

"That sounds good to me, Mom. Again, thanks for … everything." We walked toward the front door. She pulled me in for a last hug and kiss and I made my way to the car.

"I love you."

"Love you, too, Mom. See you soon."

With that I headed toward home, ready to work in our studio again.

* * *

**Edit: 1/9/2012**


	4. Sensual Revelations

**Sensual Revelations**

I had been working on my portfolio for the last hour, enjoying the warm sun that the frequent breaks in the clouds allowed to spill into the overhead windows. Jasper was going to be home in about three hours, so I had plenty of time to get focused on my task. I probably needed every minute.

Jasper's sketchbooks, that I had looked through earlier, were still lying open on his worktable, and I was having a difficult time maintaining focus. My eyes would dance and fall over the parts of me he had drawn. Several times, I tried turning my body away from his space, but within a few minutes, my chest turned to face his portrayals once again as if they were magnetic north.

"Shit!"

Frustrated at my lack of concentration, I slammed his books shut and moved all of my work over to the black leather Barcelona daybed. Spreading my pieces out, I continued my search of what I wanted to include in my portfolio and made notes in my Moleskine® Reporter on what I still needed to produce to show my artistic range.

This work was being done for a class, but my grade mattered little. Putting together a great portfolio could mean the difference between a working artist and a penniless one, so working on this was important to me. I really wanted my art to support me. Sure, I had money, but my craft was something I needed to feel alive, and I was compelled to make my living with it.

Jasper and I both worked for years to make our portfolios varied and complete, but it was a never-ending process. It was a good thing we both enjoyed doing it. We would often work together, giving each other critical assessments on what should be included or omitted from the pack. This was an invaluable part of our relationship due to its honesty and candor.

The sun was pouring directly into the studio and beating down on my back as I looked below to my work. It was very warm on my neck and I was starting to get very drowsy. My eyelids became heavy and I no longer had the strength to stand. I needed to get my pieces out of the direct sunlight as well, so I returned them to their archival box and laid down on the daybed. It didn't take long before my eyes drifted shut.

#

_A warm, masculine hand scrolled up my back and soft lips captured the skin of my neck. I was pulled into an embrace and felt a lean, muscular body pressed into me. Dropping my head back to his shoulder, I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding._

_I felt his strong hands reach around my hips, slowly lowering until they found my proud erection. A soft moan escaped my throat as I lifted my head and looked around me._

_I saw the forest before me and heard a quiet stream somewhere up ahead. Turning my head, I saw a tree house. How did I get to my house in Forks?_

_The hands holding me cupped me before one palm rose up my belly and slipped into my pants. I inhaled sharply as he grasped onto my cock with his large, strong hands and gave me a gentle squeeze. Slowly, he started to stroke me, lightly near the base and gradually tightening as he neared the head._

_I was so tired and warm. I rested my head back again, and felt him place warm, open mouth kisses on my neck and shoulder. His tongue slipped across the gentle curve where the two met, and he gave me a tender bite._

_My breathing quickened as his hand sped up. He continued to move up and down my rigid shaft while his other hand moved to cup and fondle my balls. He changed his rhythm and pattern and started to twist his wrist up and over the head of my cock, gathering any liquid that had accumulated and using it to reduce the resistance of his skin on mine. Without permission, my hips started thrusting forward, deepening his strokes._

_I opened my eyes and turned my head toward him, but just as he started to come into focus, he disappeared. Gone were his hands, his lips, his tongue. The only thing that remained was the moisture and heat where he had last trailed kisses and touched my aching erection._

#

I awoke with a start and looked around our studio. My breathing was short and labored and my neck was dampened with a thin sheen of perspiration. Looking over at the clock, I saw that it was only about two o'clock. I had slept for an hour.

Walking over to the sink, I turned the cold water on and wet a washcloth. I slowly rubbed it over my face and neck before enjoying the coolness on my stomach. Seeing myself in the mirror, my green eyes were eager, and my breathing was labored. I tried slowing it down as I sought to make sense of my dream. It seemed so real. I'm sure if the lover in my dream hadn't disappeared I would have been cleaning up a lot more than perspiration.

I walked over to Jasper's desk and opened the three books that I had looked at earlier. Paging through them, I opened to the drawing of me at our lunch table. In the most recent book, I found the sketch of me in my bath towel. In the first sketchbook that Jasper ever shared with me, I started flipping through the old but familiar scenes.

About halfway through the book I found what I was looking for. Off on the right of a page was my tree house. On the left, the tiny stream could be seen between the trees of the forest that lay beyond. This was our favorite spot to sit when we were young. We would lean against a large maple tree. He must have been leaning against it when he drew this. Much of our time in the summers was spent there. Drawing. Talking. Laughing. We would retreat to my tree house whenever it would rain, but if no moisture was in the air, we would quickly climb down and sit by that tree.

I leaned against the table and felt how hard my cock still was. Moaning, I stepped back from the edge and grabbed myself, slowly rubbing. Heading back to the daybed, I laid my head on the low pillow and gently stroked myself.

I hadn't thought of that spot in my backyard for years. After moving away for college and buying my own home, I rarely went back to Forks in the summer. Most of my time there was during holidays, especially those during the rainy season. I seldom had the opportunity to go to our favorite area.

Why I just dreamed of that spot was puzzling. Who was the man in my dream? I hadn't gotten any real clues. And why was I dreaming of a mysterious man touching me while I stood in the spot that was practically sacred to Jasper and me? Was it Jasper?

Just then, I heard the door handle turn, and I quickly pulled my hand away from my pants. Jasper walked through the doorway, looking around the studio in search of something. His eyes landed on my reclined form, so he quickly joined me on the daybed, giving me a half smile.

"I thought you weren't supposed to be here until after four tonight?" I thought aloud. My smile couldn't be contained.

"I wasn't, but I couldn't stand to be away from you any longer. I talked to my professor and handed in my assignment early. I had to see you."

His grin widened and he reached for me.

Leaning over, he gently placed his full lips on mine. My mouth responded with a light tongue brushing across his lower lip. Stretching out his body, he settled part of his weight on me and part on the soft leather below me. It felt so good to have his form resting on me. I felt more secure in that moment, his weight pressing into me.

Reaching up to the back of his neck and curling my fingers in his wheat colored curls, I pulled him to my mouth, turning my head to allow him to come closer. I felt his soft breath on my cheek as I opened my mouth to his, letting his tongue explore. Velvety softness smoothed over the wet silk of my tongue, and I moaned into his mouth.

He pulled back and smiled at me before his mouth slid down my jaw and started kissing my neck. Leaning my head back to give him more room, he followed the lines of my collarbone toward the hollow of my throat. I could feel the slight stubble of his face rubbing sensuously across my tender skin. His tongue traced the contours of my neck before his lips moved to gently envelop my Adam's apple in a deep, slow kiss.

"Welcome home." I said as he chuckled. Pulling myself out from under him and pushing him onto his back, I resumed our kissing. I slowly crawled on top of him, straddling his lap. His hands ran from my shoulders to my hips and he pulled me down firmly into him. I felt his hardness through the thick material of our jeans and my ass ground into him again. His head fell back and he groaned.

I took advantage of the openness of his neck and started to kiss from his ear to his shoulder, biting hard where his neck and shoulder met. My hands were unbuttoning his shirt before I realized what I was doing. Leaning forward, he allowed me to pull his shirt over his shoulders and drop it to the floor.

Sliding down his body, I used my hands and mouth to explore this undiscovered country. For years, I'd fantasized about this moment, and now, it was happening. I needed to savor this. I wanted to remember.

I slowly trailed down the center of his chest with the tip of my nose, kissing his smooth skin along my journey. His earthy scent was drawn in with my breath: clove and pencils.

Brushing the short stubble of my cheek across his chest, I softly kissed the pink skin of his nipple. He pulled a breath in between his teeth and his tender flesh responded, pebbling up as I opened my mouth to take it in, sucking gently. Not wanting to deny its twin, I reached across to graze it with the pad of my thumb, all the while continuing to suck and lightly explore with my teeth.

"Oh God, Edward. You're a tease." He shook his head from side to side. I looked up at him, seeing what I was doing to him, and decided to continue my decent.

My hands traced the planes of his chest down to his hips where I finally gave him the touch he desired. He hissed. His body craved more friction so he thrust his hips into my palm. He found a slow and steady rhythm against me as my hand made quick work of the closures on his pants.

I pulled away toward the foot of the daybed to pull his pants off but he groaned as my hand left his cock.

"Patience." I chided. "You'll be pleased with what's to come. I promise." Taking off his shoes, socks and pants, I unceremoniously dropped them onto the sun-warmed maple floor.

Kneeling at the foot of the bed, I drank in the sight of his body. His broad shoulders and chest tapered to a narrow waist. The V at his hips drew my eye to dark flaxen curls overshadowed by his impressive length. Satiny smooth skin enveloped turgid muscle and pulsing vessels. He watched as I raked my eyes over his body.

"Do you like what you see there, Edward?" he grinned.

"Uh huh," was all I could manage, earning me a snicker.

"Are you done yet?"

"Uh uh. Let me finish." I wasn't about to hurry this. Now was my time to finally gaze at his arresting body with full eyes. No hurried looks or stolen glances. He waited patiently with a smirk as my eyes continued their decent, studying the subtle texture of the skin below his curls, following the defined muscles of his thighs and calves and ending at his smooth feet.

His feet were beautiful. I wondered if he had ever considered being a foot model. I'd have to remember to ask him that. I pulled his right foot to my mouth and kissed the arch just on the inside of his foot.

The ogling was for me. What was to come next was for him. Today was his time to experience what I had wanted to give him for so many years. I was going to show him how good I could make him feel, how much I loved him, no expectations, no returned favors. This was going to be all about Jasper, my gift to him.

My kisses moved slowly up his leg, the texture of his soft hair feeling exquisite under my lips. Stopping at his knee, I licked the sensitive skin on the underside. I saw his cock twitch.

His eyes rolled back and he said, "Fuck. Is that an erogenous zone? My knee?"

I laughed and kept moving closer to my destination. As I kissed his innermost thigh, I breathed in deeply, taking in the unequaled scent. Starting at his balls, I licked him, tasting all the way up to the head of his penis.

"Ungh! Fuck! God damn it in holy hell." He was watching me, his hands were balled up in fists, and he was hitting the couch. Seeing the drop of moisture at his tip, I tasted him, running my tongue along to gather it. I licked all around his head until I took his cock deep in my mouth.

Allowing my lips to slide, I took him in until he hit my throat; I relaxed my muscles and took him further until my lips touched his coarse hair. He gasped above me, and I looked up before slowly withdrawing him from my mouth.

"Fuck! What the … are you doing … Jesus … how?" I didn't really know what he was trying to say other than he was enjoying himself. Then it dawned on me. No one had ever taken everything he had to offer. They probably weren't able to considering his size. I bet he never had a proper blow job. I was about to pull out all the tricks in my bag and give him the best blow job ever.

With this new knowledge, I got to work. I took him down my throat again and swallowed around his head. "Fuck. What did you just do?"

I did it again before withdrawing him from my mouth noisily. "I swallowed. Did you like it?"

"Uh … yes!" he intoned.

Wrapping my hands around the back of his hips, I lifted him off the daybed before I took him back into my mouth. Running my tongue along his head, I tasted what his body provided. I plunged him deep again and then moved up to circle my tongue right below his head. I traced light circles, earning a groan and fingers threading through my messy hair. Lips tightening around him, my cheeks hollowed as I sucked gently. I started a smooth, steady beat, rubbing my tongue on the underside of his cock as I went.

Moving my knees further down the day bed, I released him and started to lick his balls. Taking one in my mouth, I gently sucked, causing him to hiss. I watched his face change from placid and relaxed to intense and exhilarated. He tried to watch what I was doing, but his eyes kept rolling back in his head, eyelids fluttering shut. Holding his cock in one hand, I continued to keep rhythm with the subtle thrusting of his hips, slightly twisting my hand around his shaft. Easing further down, I ran my tongue down behind his ball toward his pleated skin.

He let out a gasp as I traced the soft folds with my tongue, and I felt his muscles slightly relax, allowing me a small measure of access. Flattening, my tongue I ran it along his delicate hole, relaxing him further.

"Uuuuhhhhhhhh … great … never thought." He was obviously enjoying himself, so that was good. I made my way back up his body. Not wanting to deny this newfound pleasure, I wet my finger with an abundance of saliva as I moved, readying it.

Taking him back into my mouth, I started to suck up and down his length. Holding onto his cock, I stroked him while my mouth licked and sucked and tasted all of him. I hummed around him as my hand reached down to where I had just departed, and I took him deep down my throat as I gently plunged my wet finger into him.

His entire body shuddered, and I felt his balls tightening up below my chin and palm. I met his eyes and curled my finger inside him as my mouth dove down his shaft. He gave a guttural scream. Thick cords of his cream rushed down my throat as he shuddered through his orgasm. I withdrew my finger and helped him ride out his orgasm with my soft mouth. I placed tender kisses and licks around the head of his cock, trying hard to avoid his all too sensitive flesh. Slowly, he came down from his high, so I withdrew my mouth from him and stalked up his body.

He looked spent. I stroked his sweaty curls away from his face and his eyes met mine. I was pulled down for a deep kiss and crushed to his chest. I sat straddling his hips as he continued to kiss and embrace me, breaths gradually slowing. Soon he relaxed and I settled my head into the crook of his neck, breathing his scent in deeply.

"Edward," he was finally able to say, "that was the absolute best blow job I've ever had."

"Well, thanks, Jasper." I was beaming, proud to have given him such pleasure.

"No, man. I mean, I don't know if you really understand how good that was."

I chuckled and sat up on an elbow to look at him. His face was serene and he looked up at me in awe. It was funny. He just looked at me with a glassy stare. His face was flushed and his contentment was obvious.

"Would you care to elaborate on what aspects you enjoyed, considering the variety of ministrations I provided?"

He laughed at my use of formal language. "Okay, first, no one has ever been able to take … all of me. Ungh!" Just as I had suspected. "Hot and wet all the way down to the base and then you swallowed. God!" He threw his head back. "Your tongue is amazing. That was like nothing else I have ever experienced. And it was so noisy."

I laughed. "Blow jobs should be noisy unless you are in public and even then…. Who wants a chaste, slightly moist blow job? I want wet, messy head."

He looked at me with big eyes and said, "I guess I do, too. I just never knew it before."

I couldn't keep myself from laughing. His eyes betrayed his innocence, and it was so endearing. Jasper was _not_ sexually inexperienced, but it was obvious that our sexual relationship was going to bring novel experiences to him. Sure, he had been with James, but that didn't give him any sort of understanding of relationships with men or even gay sex.

If I was being honest with myself, this was going to be groundbreaking for me, too. The challenge, I realized at that moment, would be to keep talking and not let my overwhelming desire for him overshadow our relationship. I was in this for the long haul, and my dick would just have to wait.

"What's so funny?" he asked, eyebrow cocked.

I reached over to stroke his jaw line, feeling the bristle of his stubble. "Your face is just so full of wonder right now. I don't think I've ever seen you like this. Ok, maybe when we were kids and you first saw some of those glacial waterfalls on our hikes. But not in a long time."

His bottom lip stuck out in a beautiful pout I couldn't resist. I pulled the pout in to gently suck. The softness of his kiss-swollen lips lay in sharp contrast with his toned body.

He pulled away from me, something on his mind. "No one," he started, "has ever licked me any lower than my balls. I know people do that, but I guess I never even considered it happening to me." His eyes closed, and a small smile played across his lips as he remembered the sensation. "It was nice." I chuckled and his eyes popped open. "What? It's true!"

"I know, I know. I don't doubt your enjoyment; it's just funny to see you like this. You've always been so confident sexually, like nothing would surprise you. And here you are looking up at me with awe written on your face. It's just adorable." I kissed him on his nose. "A whole new world is about to open up to you if you let it, Jasper."

"A whole new world is about to open up for us, Edward. Us."

I smiled, and he pulled me next to him into a warm embrace. The heat of the strong sun warmed my limbs, now wrapped around his chest and hip. He knitted his fingers through my hair, pulling slightly, which I loved.

"I didn't even know I was going to cum. It just came out of nowhere," he admitted. "I'm sorry I didn't warn you."

"No need to apologize Jas because it didn't come out of nowhere. I just wanted it to be powerful, so I gave you a little extra simulation."

"Prostate?" he asked. I nodded. "Seriously, Edward, the best orgasm I have ever had. Now, let's see if I can try to recall some of those techniques and use them on you." He gave me a devious smile as he rolled me onto my back.

My eyes settled on Jasper's beautiful mouth. He had an easy smile with dimples that drew my eyes towards his pink lips. His full bottom lip begged to be sucked while his thinner upper lip pleaded for me to lick it. It was a masculine mouth, broad and inviting. Perfectly straight, white teeth glistened as he slowly drew his tongue across them, tempting me, imploring me to explore them.

"Not right now. This was about you. Just kiss me."

I couldn't resist his mouth anymore so I wrapped my fingers in his hair and pulled him to me. I just needed to taste his mouth again. Relaxed and unhurried our lips explored each others, ending in sweet, chaste kisses.

The sun beating down on our outstretched bodies was too warm. Sitting up and leaning against the wall I saw Jasper look toward his desk. I sat up, mimicking his position.

My eyes followed his gaze and landed on the three sketchbooks that I had left open on his desk. He turned his head toward me and I saw … apprehension? Suspicion?

* * *

**Edit: 1/9/2012**


	5. Impressions

**Impressions**

Jasper stood up from the daybed and started redressing himself while his eyes remained on his desk, scanning the open sketchbooks.

Anxiety filled me. My stomach seemed to be full of leaping frogs. I swallowed thickly, trying to put away my fear.

Carte blanche. It had been years since we'd actually used our privilege. High school was probably the last time I had freely opened a sketchbook of Jasper's without him being in the room.

I watched as he buttoned and zipped his pants. His shirt was left lying in a messy heap on the sun-dappled floor. He headed toward his desk as he took a closer look at what was laid out, his fingers lightly brushing across the pages. His eyebrows were knit together and his eyes seemed cold.

My body froze. I sat there on the daybed leaning against the wall, my legs apparently encased in ice. I tried moving my feet. No luck. A toe? I couldn't even move a fucking toe?

Oh my God! What had I done? Betrayed his trust?

I wanted to speak but when I opened my mouth I found it was parched, dry beyond belief, and I was unable to make a sound. I pulled my hand to my throat and tried to swallow. At least the hand moved. The once-moist tissue of my larynx now stuck together slightly and nearly made me choke.

I had only been trying to understand. I was simply trying to alleviate my fears. I should have waited and talked to him, though. I feared I already screw this up, not even twenty-four hours into our new relationship. Way to go Cullen!

I had to say something. Do something. But I was stuck. I felt a drop of perspiration fall unhurriedly down my temple and land below the collar of my shirt, making it's way further down my chest. My neck was damp with sticky moisture. Without warning, my whole body shivered.

I took my one thawed appendage and reached for him. My hand seemed to be grasping at his back, but he didn't see me. I didn't feel him and my arm was so tired. It lazily fell back to the bed, landing with little to no sound. I felt slightly dizzy from my effort.

Jasper made his way over to the sink and grabbed a clean washcloth from the shelf. He turned the cold water on and lowered the cloth into the gentle stream. After wringing it out he unfurled it and rubbed the clean, white cloth over his forehead. He let out a sigh and continued washing his face.

Rinse. Wring. Unfurl.

I watched as he repeated the process several times, moving the cloth over his neck and eventually his chest. He reached for the handle of the faucet and turned it off. Laying the cloth across the spigot he moved his hands to the edges of the sink, resting the weight of his upper body on the heels of his hands.

What would say? How could I make this right? The last thing I meant to do was betray his trust in me.

He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly released it between his lips. He hung his head as he took in another.

Was he mad? With his back to me I couldn't tell what he was feeling. I wanted to see his face. I _needed_ to see his face, but I was powerless, unable to make my needs known.

When he first saw his books laid out, what did I see? It looked like apprehension or suspicion. Why wasn't he saying anything? I would rather he just yell at me and get it over with than leave me sitting here like a terrified animal. I needed to know!

I had to move. I had to say something. He had to know my intentions.

_Move, Edward. Move!_

My left knee bent slightly.

_Come on. You can do this. This is too important to be frozen._

My right knee bent.

Now I had some leverage so I used the edge of the daybed that rested on the back of my calves and pulled myself forward. My bare feet hit the warm, wooden floor. The heat beneath my soles seemed to have a thawing effect on the rest of my body.

Slowly, feeling returned to me, starting at my toes and working its way up my legs, my torso, and down my arms to my fingertips. I could move again. I tried to swallow but my throat stuck together fully now, causing me to choke.

I must have been making strange coughing sounds because Jasper was over to me in a flash with a glass of cold water and a hand patting my back, his eyes large as saucers. I eagerly swallowed the cool liquid down, feeling it rewetting my throat. When it hit my stomach I could breathe and swallow again.

"Jasper?" I croaked. "I … I … I don't … I didn't mean … please don't be mad at me," I pleaded.

He looked at me with confusion. "Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you Edward?"

What? Apparently I _was_ misreading things.

"I looked at your sketchbooks today. I was missing you. When I came out to the studio I…" I didn't know what to say.

When he saw that I wasn't going to continue, he stepped over to his desk, retrieving the three sketchbooks and sat down. He kicked my chair out from my desk and motioned for me to come over and sit. I followed suit and rolled my chair over close to his. I had to rest most of the weight of my upper body on the desk. I still felt weak.

"Carte blanche, Edward. That hasn't ever changed, you know." He gave me a small half-smile. "I know we haven't really used that recently, but I'm not mad at you. If anything, I'm a bit embarrassed," he admitted.

"Embarrassed? Why would you be embarrassed?"

"Well," he ducked his head, "I was just a bit consumed. I mean, look." He started to page through his book, flipping through pages I hadn't seen yet. "It's all Edward, all the time in here," he laughed sardonically.

I reached around his shoulder pulling him into me and kissing his temple. "Do you know what seeing these pages did for me today?"

He turned his head looking at me with fear and doubt. "No, what did they do?"

Jasper was worried. He was afraid that I thought he was obsessing over me … that his drawings were freaking me out. Rather than holding anything back, I needed to be honest.

"I woke up this morning and got your note. I wanted so badly to call you but I knew you were tied up with school. I didn't want to be the over-eager boyfriend who calls the moment he realizes you aren't in the same bed, even if that's how I feel." I shyly smiled. "Hell, I spent several minutes touching the sheets this morning just to reassure myself that last night actually happened," I laughed, hoping he wouldn't think I was too weird. Lucky for me, I got a genuine smile, almost like he understood exactly how I felt.

"I wanted to feel close to you so I came out here. I always feel closer to you in our studio, and it didn't hurt that I had to work on my portfolio. Kill two birds with one stone, you know?" I shrugged. "When I walked in I felt you everywhere. I saw your sketchbook sitting out. I just opened it and started paging through. I have to admit, I was a little surprised to see myself on page after page."

"Uh … see … um," Jasper hesitated.

"I get it Jas. I understand this was you working thorough shit. Right?"

"You're partially right. Some of this was me just working through things. That's how it started at least. After my second videotaping, the first one with another guy, I dreamed about you and me together. That's when I started drawing." He flipped further forward in his book than I had looked. He opened to a quick sketch of us. I was standing behind him with my arms around his waist, chin resting on his shoulder. He was looking back over his shoulder at me.

Slowly he started to page back through the book, pausing to allow me to see each drawing. They started as quick, messy sketches. It looked like he drew them in haste just to get them out of his head, but as the pages were turned, they started to become more precise. He watched my face as I studied the pages. I let my face and heart connect allowing him to see all of my feelings in my expressions, holding nothing back.

"As you can see, I started spending more time working on the pieces." He watched me with intent as I nodded in recognition. "I was thinking less and less about my experience and more about you and my dreams. This is when I really started to notice small details about you." He pointed to the paper, and I saw the page with the large E on it surrounded different parts of me.

"Pretty soon, _Broke Straight Dudes_ had nothing to do with my thinking process and my sketches. It was all about you." He looked at me with a lazy smile. "I would work on some pieces for days, trying to represent you as close as possible. It was so relaxing." He turned to the sketch of my eyes. "This I did when you were working on that horrible project for Dr. Banner. You were so intense. I had to capture that.

"Your hands. I drew your hands because by this point I wanted them on me, Edward. I wanted you to touch me. I was no longer satisfied with fleeting connections." He reached over and gripped my free hand in his and pulled it to his mouth, kissing my palm. Tears glistened in his eyes, and I couldn't help but smile.

Everything I had interpreted from his recent sketches was true. I felt lit up from inside, illuminated by his admission. I kissed his hand in return and placed my lips on his forehead. Pulling back I motioned back to his desk.

"I looked at older books too. I was surprised to see that you drew a picture of me on your very first day of school." I felt an impish smile spread across my face. "I remember that day like it happened yesterday. I was so curious about you. I kept trying to see what you were drawing, but I didn't even get a peek. Seven years later I find out it was me."

Jasper's eyes seemed to get a far off look in them and he said, "Yep. I saw you looking over at me and I got a little freaked out. I didn't know what you would do if you knew what I was drawing. That's part of why I didn't talk to you for two weeks. I had to finish using the rest of that sketchpad before I could let you come any closer to me. I was a little paranoid, but I didn't want to seem weird."

"So why me, Jasper? What made you draw me the first day of school?" I was very curious to hear his answer.

"Your hair. It was so interesting to me. I had never seen bronze hair before. The color is so unique. But that first day, it was more about how it just stuck up everywhere, but it didn't look bad. It fit you. And you kept putting your fingers through it which kept drawing my attention back."

I always ran my fingers through my hair when I was nervous or anxious. I had been feeling both of those things the minute Jasper had sat down. I had simply put it off as my own shyness that day.

Just then my stomach growled at me. It was only five o'clock but my body decided then and there that it needed food.

"Ok, my body is rebelling. I have more I want to talk to you about but let's get out of here. Where do you wanna eat?" I asked.

"I'm in the mood for … comfort food, actually." He admitted sheepishly.

"Well, comfort food it is. How about the 13 Coins? We can get about anything there."

#

Arriving at the restaurant we were seated quickly since it was a slower weeknight. Our waitress was very attentive … too attentive. I needed to talk to Jasper not be fawned over by the strawberry blonde, Tonya, and her overly sexed up cleavage.

I ordered the Italian Sausage and Cheese Omelet while Jasper ordered the New York Steak and Eggs. We weren't able to have breakfast together that morning so we had breakfast for supper instead.

While we waited for our food, I told Jasper about finding his sketches today and was about to tell him how I reacted to them when Tonya came to deliver our food. "Can I get you anything else right now?" Her eyes darted back and forth between us as she batted her eyelashes. She was obviously flirting but it appeared that she couldn't make up her mind on whose attention she wanted.

Women were frequently drawn to Jasper and me, earning us flirtatious gestures, bold words, and phone numbers. Neither of us had really relished in the attention, but Jasper, at least, had a date or two from the advances.

Jasper answered her with his lazy smile, pulling out his rarely used Texas drawl. "No thanks, Darlin'. We'll let ya know if we need anything more."

I looked at him incredulously. "What the hell was that?" I asked after she left.

"What was what?" Pure innocence washed over his face.

I couldn't believe he didn't see it. Did he not know he just flirted? "Well Tex, it's been awhile since I've heard from you." I said mockingly with a smile so he knew I wasn't too mad.

"What? Did I revert back to my accent again?" I nodded and he continued. "Every once in awhile it comes up. I think it correlates to my use of good manners," he nodded, seriously.

"I think is correlates with you flirting," I mumbled. He didn't hear.

The din in the restaurant was loud enough that we could have a private conversation so I decided to continue telling him about my late morning. I told him that I noticed how meticulous his sketches were and my interpretation of that care. I shared how I had cried without initially realizing it and that I couldn't stop once I did. Then I told him about the visit to my parent's house and how I went and cried to my mother.

"Edward, I wish you would have called me." His face was full of concern and regret.

"I didn't want to bother you at school. I know you're busy and I really felt foolish about the whole thing. Calling you blubbering like an idiot because I fully realized what you said last night was really true wouldn't have been very helpful. It was all about my insecurity at first, but when I put everything together I saw how sincere you were."

I paused, allowing myself to take a deep breath. "I was happy and relieved. I really just wanted to not be alone. I knew my mom would help and I knew she wouldn't pry." I took a quick sip of water before spearing a piece of sausage with my fork.

"It was so hard leaving the house this morning," Jasper admitted. His hands went to his head and he ran his fingers roughly through his hair. "I laid there and watched you for about twenty minutes before I finally forced myself to get in the shower. I thought getting up was hard. Shutting and locking the door was like torture. I kept locking and unlocking the damn thing. It's like I had OCD." He released a mirthless laugh.

"When I woke up, I buried my nose in the sheets smelling where you slept," I admitted, cracking a half-smile before we both laughed openly. Relief was written on both of our faces. "We shouldn't really feel bad about this. We're supposed to be a bit crazy in the beginning, right?" He nodded as he continued with his genuine laugh.

We watched the chef's cook behind the bar for a few minutes, flames dancing as they worked their magic and wowed the crowd. It was nice being out with Jasper like this. Of course this wasn't the first time we've been out to eat, but this was different. This was our first unofficial date. It felt different too. We weren't reaching across the table intimately touching each other, but we were talking about very personal things, things we wouldn't have talked about two days ago.

"When I was with my mom it came out that I was seeing someone." His eyes narrowed slightly. "I didn't tell her it was you, but I think we do need to talk about this." I paused trying to read him as he chewed on his full lower lip. "I don't want to pressure you at all, so don't feel like you have to come out right now, ok?" I felt like I was back peddling.

"It basically came out because of all of my tears. I felt like I had to tell her something so she wouldn't worry or think that someone died. She wouldn't have pressed me to say anything, but it just felt right to tell her my tears were happy ones.

"I told her you hadn't come out to anyone but me, and that you needed some time. She accepted that and has invited us to brunch or dinner sometime when you're ready to make that move." I wasn't about to tell him that my mom was concerned about the newness of Jasper's revelation. He had enough on his mind.

He was quiet as his finger traced the lines of condensation that were running down the glass of his ice water. His eyes followed as the drops fell from the glass and landed on the white tablecloth. I tried to keep my face neutral. I really wanted to be open with my parents but this was not my decision to make. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he told me his feelings. It was really only about twenty-four hours prior. I could be patient.

"You know, I can wait. It's only been a day, Jas. Let's give this some time, ok?" His eyes finally met mine.

"Thank you, Edward. It's just all so fresh. I think I want some time for us to adjust before Carlisle and Esme know. They're like my second parents, but I think I need to face my parents first." He gave me a revealing smile.

"We do, however, need to talk to my mom and dad about a loan for you," I reminded him. "Do you think you'll be ready for that this weekend?"

He let out a huge sigh before answering. "I don't think I have a choice. I have payments to make and very little cash flow."

I knew this was going to be formidable for him. Any sort of debt was nearly taboo to Jasper. After his mother nearly ruined his family with credit card debt 5 years ago, he had worked hard to pay for everything with cash. His modeling work had been paying the bills quite nicely until the economy started to crumble. Jobs became scarcer and the demands of school made scheduling shoots a bit harder.

Back in high school his pride was hurt when his family applied for food assistance. I remembered going to his house and reaching into the fridge for something. He slammed the door shut so I couldn't see the government issued cheese sitting in there. I had caught a peek, but I could see how badly he felt about it. He didn't get the reaction from me that he expected. I didn't pity him or laugh, I simply asked him for a glass of Pepsi with ice and went back to sit in the living room. I never mentioned it and neither did he. Eventually his family climbed out of their financial hole, but it affected how Jasper dealt with money ever since.

"What do you think, Saturday or Sunday?" I asked.

"I'd like to get it out of the way, so Saturday." He looked resigned.

Getting this taken care of would release him once and for all from _Broke Straight Dudes_. He needed to put that chapter behind him.

Since hearing about his financial aid predicament, I had been thinking about making the suggestion that he live with me rent free, but I knew he would never accept my offer. I had also considered not depositing his rent checks and just letting them pile up in a locked box in my room. That would have gone over like a lead balloon, so I took his rent money and felt guilty about it, telling myself that I was protecting his pride.

While I owned the house we lived in, I never considered it my house; it was always our house. I bought it with both of us in mind. I had the studio designed and built to meet our needs. It was all ours in my mind.

Going to my parents would be hard for him, but it was the lesser of two evils by a long shot. My father was a calm and reasonable man. He would help Jasper out because he was like a second son to him

"I know this is going to be tough Jasper, but in the end I think it'll help bring down your stress." I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. He rubbed the top of my hand with his thumb.

"I'll call your dad tonight to set up a time. Will you come with me, Edward?"

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," I said, smiling.

Finishing up our meal we signaled the waitress. She headed toward the table and suddenly stopped, eyes on our intertwined hands. "It figures! Two gorgeous men, of course you're together." She threw up her hands and looked to the heavens. She stopped herself abruptly and changed course. "I mean, it was a pleasure serving you tonight. Please come back."

We couldn't stop ourselves. All three of our faces split into huge smiles before the laughter took us over. I had a feeling it wouldn't be the last time we got this type of reaction.

* * *

**Edit: 1/9/2012**


	6. Restoration

**Restoration**

We were on the road headed to my parents' house for brunch and Jasper's meeting with my father. He had called my dad the night before to set things up, and hearing that we would be over, my mother called me on my cell phone to invite us to eat and spend a leisurely afternoon with them. After all the drama of the last two days, a relaxing time sounded like just what we needed.

Once again the sun was shining down giving Seattle an unusually warm autumn day so we decided to ride Jasper's silver Ducati GT1000. I rarely rode on his motorcycle with him because I enjoyed driving so much. Today I wanted to ride behind him, holding on to his waist as the wind whipped around us. Nothing relaxed Jasper as well as riding his bike and today he needed it.

We pulled into my parent's drive at about twenty-after-ten. That gave us about ten minutes before he and my dad had planned on meeting. I wasn't sure how much information Jasper had shared about why he wanted to meet, but my father readily agreed to seeing him on short notice.

Pulling off our helmets and walking up the front steps, we were met by my mother at the door. "Jasper." She pulled him down for a big hug before she placed kisses on his cheeks and forehead. "It's been too long. We need to see you more often."

"It's good to see you too, Esme. You've got me most of today if you'll have me." He smiled down at her and walked in the house setting his helmet down on the table and hanging up his leather jacket. He bent over to take off his boots and my eyes roamed over the tight fit of his well-worn jeans.

"Carlise." He caught my dad's eye as he was descending the stairs, most likely coming from his study. Shaking his hand he said, "Good to see you. Thank you for meeting with me today." My father pulled Jasper into a big hug.

"No need to be so formal. I'm glad you guys are here. Do you want a Bloody Mary before we head up?" he asked heading toward the kitchen.

Just then I realized I had been staring at Jasper throughout their entire interaction and ignoring my mother. When I turned to pull her in for a hug I noticed she had been observing them as well, a look of concern washing away from her expression as she faced me.

"I see you rode the bike today. It's a good day for that. Maybe you boys can even get out in the pool for a bit." She led me into the house, pausing while I set down my helmet, hung up my coat, and slipped out of my shoes. "Let's go get something to drink. Maybe your dad will share his famous Bloody Marys if we get in there quickly. Jasper shouldn't be the only lucky one."

As I walked into the kitchen, a tall glass was placed in my hands. Sipping the spicy, tomatoey goodness was a good way to start off our brunch. Looking at Jasper I saw his glass was quickly being drained. He was visibly nervous. Walking over to him I put a hand on his shoulder and softly whispered, telling him he had nothing to fear. For all the times I had said that this morning, I didn't know why I thought it would help now.

He looked at me sideways and narrowed his eyes. Smiling, I put my hand on his elbow and gently guided his glass back up to his lips. Liquid courage was fine. I patted him on the shoulder and walked around to the other side of the counter.

"So. What can I do to help in here mom?" I looked around and saw a basket of fresh fruit, a few dirty dishes sitting in the sink, and a spatula resting next to the oven. "Quiche?" I sniffed, licking my lips, before she could answer my first question.

"Yes, Edward, quiche. While your father and Jasper talk, why don't we make a fruit salad?" She reached for the fruit while I found some knives.

Looking up I saw Jasper had started in on his second Bloody Mary, and he appeared a bit less stressed about the situation. Just then, my father suggested they head upstairs to talk, and Jasper shot me a look of despair. I tried sending out waves of calm, but that was really his thing. I could see I didn't have much success so I did the next best thing. I gave him my fullest, most sincere smile and nodded my head toward the stairs, encouraging him to get this over with. He looked over his shoulder at me just as he rounded the corner. I let out a big sigh.

"I don't think I've ever seen Jasper this nervous, Edward. Is everything ok?" She was genuinely worried and looked as if she wanted to join them so she could comfort him. I felt the same way. I was barely paying attention to what I was doing with my knife. Good thing I had good cutting skills and knew how to use a knife safely.

"He's had some really bad luck with financial aid this year. Everything fell through, all the loans that is. Plus, he hasn't had as much work. If he's going to finish school this year he needs some help. I tried to offer cash, but he didn't want to impose on me. I suggested he talk to dad about a loan," I stated in a matter of fact way, not wanting to betray the seriousness of the situation.

"Oh, silly. Of course we'll help Jasper. He's practically family. I don't see why he's so nervous."

He was nervous because he was certain he would get the third degree, being questioned about how he had already tried to get money. He also thought my father would force him to work as a waiter or bartender to guarantee payment. My father was a smart man. He knew those jobs wouldn't pay him like his modeling jobs did. He could work forty hours a week and make what he would during one photo shoot. Not to mention how a full-time job would keep him from being successful in his schoolwork. I knew there was nothing to worry about, but Jasper heard none of this when I tried telling him. He was positive he would have to fight for the loan.

If he'd gone to his parents, that's exactly what he'd be required to do. His dad was a retired Lieutenant Colonel in the Army. He was highly respected and had a strong work ethic. He was very set in his ways, too. Jasper was expected to work hard and always be respectful, no matter what. It would have been a natural progression in logic for his father to demand to know exactly how he had tried to get money and how he planned on paying back any money loaned. It would most likely have been part of the contractual agreement, the number of hours per week he was required to work with the nature of the work spelled out. Anything less would have been looked upon as disrespect.

That was why he never went to his parents. He knew his father would be able to read shame on his face and he feared his _Broke Straight Dudes_ experience would come out. He didn't have to worry about that with my dad. It helped that my family never hurt for money and my parents gave freely to the community all the time. Jasper was family to them. The money would be loaned with few questions asked.

I was washing a basket of strawberries when I heard my father's office door open. Soft laughter could be heard, and I took a deep breath before cutting the berries and placing them in a light blue bowl.

"Things sound friendly up there," my mom said, "and I see your shoulders finally relaxed." I was tense too. I pushed my shoulders down further and rolled my head around, releasing any pent up tension remaining.

"He's just been so keyed up for the last month or so. Now he can finally relax." I knew his tension hadn't all been financial. I was anxious to see Jasper's face and talk to him. But right then, I needed to help my mom bring the food to the table so we could all sit down to eat.

Hearing footsteps on the stairs I headed toward the kitchen to grab the final serving bowl. Jasper rounded the corner, his face was lit up, relaxed, and he even looked younger. I walked over to him and pulled him to me. My mouth went to his ear and I whispered, "I told you it would be easier than you thought. I want to hear all about it, but first we need to eat."

Gathering in the dining room we each took a side of the maple table. The table was a rectangle that could accommodate up to 4 leaves for large dinner parties, but today it was devoid of any. It felt intimate and homey as I took my seat across from Jasper.

As usual, my mother outdid herself. She made us each individual quiches with our favorites. Mine had bacon, sausage, and mushrooms in it with an extra serving of cheese. I loved cheese. The fruit salad I helped with sat next to warm ciabatta bread and whipped honey butter, preserves, and peanut butter. We had everything we could ask for, including freshly squeezed orange juice.

We tucked into the bounty before us. After a few moments of eating, my parent's started their typical brunch conversation. They talked about politics, news-worthy stories they had read, local art shows, plays, and concerts. We all joined in the conversation, learning from each other and politely debating a point if we had a differing opinion. I always learned so much about my parents when we did this. Jasper easily fell into the discussions now, but when he first came to brunches in high school, he had been terrified he would say something wrong.

My father turned to look at both of us and asked, "What sort of internships are you boys looking into?" Jasper's eye darted to mine and back to my father's.

He answered first. "I just got news that I'll be working at Masen Design. I start in January, but it's unpaid, so that's not so great. But they really are the best in typographical design in the Pacific NW." He looked down at the table and quietly said, "I beat out one-hundred-and-fifty applicants."

Everyone talked over each other congratulating him and expressing their pride. His eyes shined, and it was obvious he was happy about this.

I reached my foot underneath the table and made contact with his calf. His eyes met mine. "Jasper. This is huge! This is going to change everything." My foot slowly rose and fell along his leg, from his knee down to this ankle. He smiled at me, slightly narrowing his eyes. I couldn't help myself. I had to touch him at that moment and reaching across the table and kissing him wouldn't have been a good option.

_Who was I kidding? It would have been great, especially after I swept all the food and dishes onto the floor and dragged him across the smooth maple._

"Could this lead to something after graduation?" my mother asked, effectively interrupting my fantasy.

Jasper turned his head toward her, leaving my eyes at the last second. "The last three interns were hired on and are still there. I think it has potential. I'm crossing my fingers."

My mom turned to me and gently slapped my hand. "Why didn't you tell us the good new, sweetie?"

"I just found out, mom. This is the first I've heard about it." I glared at him a bit. "Why is that?"

He raised his hands in surrender. "I just found out yesterday afternoon. When I got home I got … distracted with things, and I forgot to tell you." We were distracted all right.

As I listened to the surrounding conversation, I continued stroking Jasper's calf. I was able to gently massage his muscles with the ball of my foot. I ran my toes around the front of his leg and settled into soft, soothing passes along his inner calf.

Just then my father asked about my internship. It took me a second before I could answer, and I took a deep pull from my orange juice to disguise my hesitation. "I have a small internship with _The Seattle Times_." I smiled, looking around the table as the faces split into silly grins. "They're really going out on a limb for me and allowing me to draw an editorial cartoon. I'm also going to illustrate for some of their smaller publications. It looks like my editorials will be featured about once a week."

Jasper reached across the table and hit my hand. "Looks like I'm not the only secret keeper."

"Nope. I guess not. I start in January too. So it looks like our lives are going to be changing quite a bit in the next few months." I slipped my foot over his knee, running my foot along his inner thigh.

He let out a strained response, "I guess so." I knew at that moment I had to stop torturing him. I pulled my foot away from his warm body and crossed my feet at the ankles. The loss of his body heat brought my attention to how tight my pants were. Good thing we weren't quite done with our meal.

After eating, Jasper and I cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. My parents headed into the family room to read the newspaper and do the crossword puzzle together. As soon as they were out of sight, I felt his body come up behind me. He pinned me against the sink, his hands resting on the granite countertop, effectively trapping me.

"Did you have fun out there, Edward?" He hissed in my ear. _I loved how my name fell from his lips._ I felt his breath rush against my lobe and neck and my head fell back onto his shoulder. "You're lucky you stopped when you did. You could have had a big problem on your hands." He ground his hips into my ass, and I could feel his hard cock slide between my buttocks.

I tried turning to face him, but he pressed into me. Turning only my face, I whispered, "It feels like I _do_ have a big problem. It just doesn't happen to be on my hands. Yet." I reached behind me with my right hand and gently grazed his erection as he took in a sharp breath next to my ear.

Just then we heard my mother's footsteps making their way toward the kitchen. Jasper pulled his body over to the sink next to me and started filling it with soapy water. He quickly added the remaining dishes and started to hand wash them. I grabbed the dishtowel and started drying.

"Boys, I want to invite you to use the pool. It's lovely out, and we can open the solarium doors and let the warm air in." She stopped when she saw us. "You don't have to do dishes. You're here to relax. Now get upstairs and find something to swim in."

Turning our backs to her, we made our way out of the kitchen without revealing the bulges in our pants. Heading upstairs, I looked over at Jasper. He looked upset, but as soon as we set foot in my room he pushed me onto the bed and started kissing me. His kisses were hungry and desperate. They were rough kisses full of deep sucking and harsh biting. Desire rushed through my body making my cock ache from the pressure.

"Jasper. I'm sorry I teased."

He pressed his hips into me, our cocks rubbing together. The thick material of our jeans was in the way and needed to be removed. I reached down and made quick work of his button and zipper before pushing his jeans and underwear as far past his hips as my hands would reach.

His teeth started biting along my neck and collarbone. The intensity wasn't letting up and his mouth started to suck and lick my responsive skin. Gooseflesh ran down my arms and legs. My nipples responded, standing at attention. I pulled my knees toward my waist, my feet searching for his waistband. Hooking my big toes around it, I pushed his pants and underwear down to the ground where I heard them drop. He actually growled as he bit right behind my ear in my hairline. That would leave a mark, I was positive.

He reached down to release me from my overly tight jeans, and I sighed as some of the pressure was relieved. He stood up, pulling my pants and boxers to the floor before quickly returning to me. We were supposed to be changing so we could swim. Technically, we were on our way to changing, we were just taking a quick detour.

Jasper leaned over me, and I felt him slide his hot sex next to mine. The heat of his silky skin on mine caused my hips to flex involuntarily. He thrust forward as he started his not-so-soft kisses again. My hips bucked up into him.

Soon our movements became steadier as we found a cadence. Our mouths met again and again, trying not to miss any part of each other. His hands slid behind my back and snaked up to grasp my shoulders. He used my body to strengthen is thrusting, pulling me down while his hips ground into me. My hands held onto his firm buttocks, pulling him toward me.

Our cocks rubbed together, and he would shift his hips every so often so the undersides of our lengths would meet, the vertical friction causing us to moan. Heat was building and I could feel my muscles contracting.

"Jasper," I pulled away from his mouth and whispered in his ear, "I can't hold out much longer."

He kissed and licked around the shell of my ear. "Let it go, baby. Don't resist."

Three more thrusts and I felt my muscles tighten as I came across my stomach. Jasper then let go and shuddered above me, our come mingling.

We lay there, gradually catching our breath. Jasper held his upper body slightly off me, and I felt his hot breath on my neck returning to its normal rate. Pulling his face to mine, I looked into his dark blue eyes before kissing him.

"I'm glad we got that out of the way before we had to put on board shorts. I'm not sure they would've been very good camouflage."

He laughed as he rolled off me and got to his feet. He made his way to the bathroom and returned shortly bringing a wet washcloth, cleaning my stomach and chest. "We'd better get down there before your parents start getting suspicious."

"Good thinking, Jas. Now, get dressed," I smiled. "Unless you're ready for round two already," I said quirking a brow.

He rummaged through a dresser drawer and threw me blue swim trunks. "Not just yet. Let's get down to the pool."

#

Warm, autumn-scented air swept into the solarium through the large, glass doors my father had pushed aside. My mom and dad remained in the family room working together to complete their crossword puzzle. I was treading water in the deep end when Jasper swam under me brushing his hand up against my cock.

"Jasper! What has it been, ten minutes, and you're ready for more?" He was incorrigible or insatiable; I wasn't sure which.

His impish face beamed as he rested his arms on the pool ledge. "What? I don't know if you know this, but I have this new boyfriend. I'm having a really hard time keeping my hands off him, even though his parents are on the other side of that door over there," he said, gesturing over his shoulder. "You see, I don't really care at the moment, because he's looking fuckhot."

"Really? Should I call my parents in here so you can tell them we're dating? Would you like them to know?" I gave him a challenging look and started climbing out of the pool. "I'll just go and get 'em."

He grabbed my ankle as I walked by, effectively stopping me. He reached up to take my hand, and in a flash, I was pulled back into the water.

War.

I pulled him underwater by his beautiful foot and yanked his green shorts down to his knees before I surfaced. I didn't have time to make my complete get away; my shorts were at my ankles. I struggled to get them off so I could swim to the edge. He met me there and eyed me deviously.

"Truce. I'm sorry. No pressure, just a little fun." Taking a deep breath I dove to the bottom to retrieve my suit and slipped it on before I surfaced.

Jasper met me where I broke through, his arms encircling my waist. His eyes were sincere and his voice low. "It'll happen, Edward. We'll tell them soon. I know you don't like keeping secrets, so I appreciate what you're doing. It means a lot to me." He gently kissed my bottom lip.

We swam around in circles, treading water together and talking in whispered tones. He told me about his conversation with my father and how easy it ended up being. He was relieved and hopeful about the future, which relaxed me even more.

We told each other the specifics of our internships and talked about how this added responsibility would affect our time together. It would be hard, but we knew we could work together in our studio.

Jasper talked about his planned student art show in the spring and asked if I would like to make it a joint venture. Our artistic styles worked well together, so marrying the two shows would make for a dynamic presentation.

We were talking about a lot of life plans and our future. We had talked little, however, about how he was feeling about us and how our relationship was going. I didn't want to pressure him so I tried not to push, but I was curious. I didn't need a public declaration, but I wanted to know how he was dealing with it.

"Jas, a lot has changed in the last few days. How are you feeling about everything?"

"I'm feeling good. I feel relief that I can finally be myself with you. I can reach out and touch you if I want, like this." His large hand slipped under my waistband and he grabbed my ass, squeezing gently. I didn't pull away, but let him fondle me and gently stroke my skin.

"It's refreshing to be able to watch you too. And believe me, you're certainly a sight," he said as he swam toward me, pushing me against the blue tile wall.

Just then we heard the door to the solarium open. Jasper dove deep and swam away from me, so I decided to swim laps.

I was on my fifteenth and final lap when I saw Jasper talking to my parents on the deck. He was standing over them, his back facing me, but turned to the side slightly. I could see the light and shadow playing off his sculpted form. His green shorts clung to his muscled ass, exposing every curve. His water-darkened hair was pushed back away from his face, exposing his chiseled features. His stance exaggerated his height.

I got to the end of the pool and threw my hands over the edge to rest a few minutes and to catch my breath. My eyes scanned the scene before me but habitually landed on Jasper. I watched as he threw his head back, laughing at something funny my father said. My mother reached out and touched his hand. He caressed hers back. A stranger might think Jasper was their son, especially with my father's blond hair.

My eyes welled up with tears as I watched the scene before me. I had brought men home to meet my parents before. They had all gotten along fairly well, except for Caius, but that wasn't my parents' fault. Caius was simply a jerk who saw my parents' success and made it clear that he wanted it to be his. Jackass. I broke up with him on the way home.

But nothing like this had ever occurred. No one had ever been this comfortable with my parents, and that made me feel so ecstatic that I wanted to shout from the hilltops. _Jasper was mine_. I stifled a laugh as I pictured Julie Andrews.

Climbing out of the pool, I made my way over to my family. I included Jasper in that thought, I realized. He was family to me, no longer only my friend and brother, but my lover. I dried my hair, discreetly pulling a few locks over the mark Jasper left behind my right ear.

Jasper ran his fingers through his hair, separating his curls, causing them to fall gently around his face. He bent over to dry off his legs and the muscles flexed and relaxed. The skin on his back was smooth and firm.

I needed to touch him. My feet propelled my body forward, and I soon felt the heat radiating off his skin. I saw my hand reaching out to caress his back without thought. Instinct ruled me.

My mom looked over to me, breaking me out of my trance, and said, "Jasper and I were just talking about setting up a board game or a card game. How does that sound?"

"Sure. That would be great." Luckily I had been jarred out of my trance before I went too far. My heart was pounding in my chest at the thought of me revealing Jasper's secrets.

"You boys take your time. Just use the shower down here in the solarium and get into those fuzzy robes. That way if you decide to get in the hot tub before you leave you, everything will be here." She left with dad in her wake, off to set up the game table.

"My God, Jas," I whispered as I rested my hand on his shoulder. "You looked so fucking hot standing over here. I had to get out just so I could get closer. I need to touch you. Now."

I grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the bathroom. I took off my shorts and walked toward the shower area. It was a large tiled area with four shower heads, two each on facing walls. If all four were on, they created one magnificent shower. I turned on all four. That's what we always did.

A ledge ran around the entire room. It could be used to hold shampoos and soap, which it did, or it could be used as a seat. The elevation of the ledge was "perfect fucking height", a subtlety that was not lost on me. My mom thought of everything when she designed this room.

I felt the warm water cascade over my chlorine-covered hair before I opened my eyes to see Jasper. He was standing across from me naked, leaning back to rinse his hair. I walked over the to wall of products and grabbed a bottle of clove scented shampoo. Squeezing a quarter sized drop on my palm I stepped up behind Jasper.

My hands started working the shampoo into his hair, coaxing a rich lather. My short nail scratched his scalp and he sighed, leaning back into my fingers. He covered his palm in shampoo and turned to me to wash my hair. As we worked the lather through each other's hair, our eyes met. It felt as if we were sharing souls. His blue eyes drew me in, deeper and deeper. I could see a reflection of myself looking back, my green eyes watching with intensity.

Pushing the majority of the foam off his hair and down his back, I used the bubbles to wash his back. I circled around and around his body, washing every part I touched with the rich scent of cloves. Knowing we were expected soon, I had to hold myself back.

I wanted so much to leave lingering touches and trailing kisses as I moved around him. I washed his back and stomach. I let my fingers dance over the rise and fall of his buttocks where I paused. Wrapping my hands around his body, I gently washed his flaccid cock before I continued lower to his balls and between his legs. He moaned as I moved across his tender flesh and his head fell forward. I had to stop before my touch became too stimulating. Kneeling in front of him I used the last, few bubbles to wash up and down both of his legs. I placed his left foot on my knee as I washed it, feeling the complexity of bone and sinew under his soft skin, before bathing the other.

Leading him backward, I directed the water to his hairline, rinsing the lather from his hair and back. Turning his body around, the last remaining bits of suds washed down the drain in the floor.

Now he turned his attention to me. His hands went back to my hair, scrubbing and lightly grazing my scalp. He followed the same path as I took, moving around me. There was something so private about being washed. Sharing this with Jasper … it felt so intimate. I dropped my head back and gave into the sensations that his hands were giving me, letting my body do what it wanted. I didn't hold back, except for my voice. I kept that to a whisper.

"Jas. This feels amazing. I feel so relaxed. Like … nothing I've ever felt before," I had to allow myself a moment to breathe. "The things you make me feel. God. I don't have words."

He remained silent, looking into my eyes as he rinsed the lather from my form. I had never felt looser than I did at that moment. Lying down for a nap would have been perfect but Jasper had other ideas. The warm water ceased to flow. I felt a fluffy towel being wrapped around my head momentarily before it moved down my body. He thoroughly dried my body, lifting my arms, making sure I was dry before moving on.

He knelt before me as he dried my stomach and continued down my legs. As he moved the towel back toward my groin, he took me into his mouth and gently sucked me, just enough to give me a moment of pleasure. Before pulling away, he placed a delicate kiss along the head and continued to dry me. He wrapped the towel around my waist and tucked the end in, keeping it in place.

I was so warm and relaxed I could barely move. I was at peace, but I wanted to make Jasper feel this too. I grabbed another towel and followed all of his ministrations. When I knelt before him I looked up to his eyes as I took him into my mouth and kissed along his head. He gave me a lazy smile and mouthed, "Thank you" before I wrapped his towel around his waist.

We sat down on the ledge for a few minutes, thighs touching and holding hands. It felt like we had just washed away the worries and the sins of the last few months. I felt clean. Pure. Ready to start our new life together.

Jasper was the first to get up, making his way out of the shower and into the dressing area of the bathroom. We each put on a robe and headed back to the solarium.

As we opened the door, our eyes met the photo of us sitting in the red boat. There we were, embracing with cherished touches. Every person who had ever used this bathroom or shower had seen this photo.

"I love this picture," Jasper said with a smile on his face.

"I saw you put it on your desk recently." He nodded. "It's such an intimate pose and yet my mom puts it on full display for all of her guests to see," I looked at him.

"Your mom's a smart woman. She sees love here. Of course, she probably sees the love between friends, but that'll change soon enough. We'll give her what she wants. She'll she her son happy. Soon she'll be able to share our love story." He kissed me on my cheek before pulling me back toward the family room.

* * *

**Edit: 1/26/12**


	7. Temptation

**Temptation**

The rest of the afternoon was relaxing and we rode away feeling more refreshed than … ever, I think. We decided to ride around town on Jasper's bike for a bit before heading back to our house. The few times we rode on abandoned streets I would reach my hand around Jasper and roughly palm his cock through thick denim, eliciting moans I could feel vibrate in my chest.

"Do you know how much better you make riding my motorcycle? I don't think I'll want to ride solo again." He chuckled as we dismounted.

When we walked in the door, our answering machine was beeping. I headed over to hit play.

_"Hi guys, it's Emmett. We're heading out to the New Moon tonight to meet up with the girls. It's been awhile. Thought you could use a few drinks and some pussy. Well, for Jasper that is. I'm sure we can find you some dick too, Edward. But seriously, come. We're meeting up at nine. I expect to see you there."_

I looked over at Jasper with a cocked eyebrow.

"I don't know. I'm so relaxed I just want to take a nap," he said.

"Well, it's only six. Why don't we lie down for an hour or two? I'll order Chinese. Go, get comfortable. I'll meet you in my bed."

Within twenty minutes we were sprawled out across my bed in our pajama pants and bare feet, eating. I only got through about six bites of my cashew chicken before my eyelids started to close. I felt Jasper slipping the box out of my hand but was too weak to do anything about it.

#

_Earthy scents surround me. I feel soft rain landing on my forehead and cheeks. I breathe deeply, savoring the smell of the new rain. I am here, leaning against our tree. Looking up I see a heavy cloud rolling in. I'd better move._

_I carefully make my way up the slippery wooden steps that are nailed to the tree. As soon as I crawl through the low doorway of the treehouse, the rain disappears. The small room feels warm, and I'm overwhelmed by the smell of pine. Turning around I back away from the door and go to sit in the corner to wait out the storm._

_I land in a soft lap. It's him again. I feel his warm body beneath mine, and his hand rests gently on my thighs. Moving his palms closer to my center I feel him press into me from below. I need to know who this is._

_I try to breathe deeply, to take in his scent, but all I smell is pine, heat, and rain. I rub my body back into his to see if he feels familiar. He pulls away. I turn my head and he's gone._

#

I sat up in my bed … in my room … in our house. I heard my ragged breaths being drawn in. Jasper came into view, sitting in front of me, hands rubbing up and down my arms. He said words I couldn't make out. I could only see his lips move.

Shaking my head I tried to come back from my dream. "…ok, Edward. I'm here. Nothing can hurt you. It was just a dream. It's ok, Edward. I'm here …"

Finally I met his eyes and my breaths started to slow. "What happened?" I asked. I knew I dreamed about the faceless man again, but did I say anything in my sleep?

"You just started to mumble and shake. I tried holding you closer, but then you sat up and screamed." He was clearly shaken by what he'd witnessed. He pulled me into his arms, and I rested my head on his chest.

I barely remembered the dream, but I felt its effects all over my body. Fear was my overwhelming sense, but the longer I rested there on my love's chest, the more I felt discarded. Shoved aside.

"Hold me Jasper. Just hold me." I felt a raw, emptiness in the pit of my stomach I feared would never fill. I wrapped my arms around Jasper and pulled him close to me, my face buried in his chest. I drew in deep breaths of clove scented Jasper, gradually feeling a calm wash over me.

His large hands ran up and down my back. He placed warm kisses on top of my head and kept telling me "I'm here."

It was simply a dream. I had nothing to fear. It meant nothing.

"I'm sorry about that." My body finally returned to its normal state. "I hope I didn't freak you out. This isn't how I wanted to start our night. I feel a lot better now." I tried to ease the concern written across his face.

"You really scared me, Edward. I don't think I've ever seen you that frightened."

"I just had a bad dream. I don't even remember what it was. When I woke up I just felt scared, but everything's better. I'm ok. Nothing to worry about, except not showing up at New Moon and having our assess handed to us by Emmett. So let's get ready." I jumped up off the bed and searched for something to wear. Jasper quietly agreed and kissed me before moving to his room.

Looking at the clock, I saw we had about an hour to get to the club. It had been a long time since I had gone out, and I was in the mood to dance. I wanted to forget my shitty dream and celebrate my new life with Jasper.

Digging through my drawers I found my dark indigo jeans that made my ass look great, or so I'd been told. I put on a navy blue A-shirt and found my favorite shirt in the closet. It was white with light blue pin striping, pearl covered snaps, and a dragon embroidered across the chest in navy and gold.

Checking my hair in the mirror, I did what I could, but the truth was, it was the same sex hair it always was. My eyes were a bit sore from the chlorine in the pool and sleeping in my contacts so I took them out and put on my black-framed glasses. I pulled on my black motorcycle boots and made my way out to the kitchen to grab a bit more of my supper. Six bites were not enough.

Just as I was finishing up, Jasper walked out of his bedroom wearing all black. His pale skin was set off by the dark color, making it appear nearly silver in the dim lighting of the living room. His shirt was long sleeved with a V-neck, exposing more silvery skin and a leather necklace with a pewter amulet. He wore tight, black jeans, a black belt with a silver buckle, and black cowboy boots.

I dropped my fork on the floor and felt my jaw drop open as I took him in. He looked up at me and gave me a smirk as I stalked across the room, unable and unwilling to control myself.

"You look so fucking hot. How can you do this to me in public?" Our lips met in a crushing kiss and my glasses started to fog. All of a sudden, going to the club seemed like the worst idea ever. I wanted to stay in and just watch Jasper all night walking around our house and then slowly undress him. "I'm not going to be able to keep my hands off of you."

"You should talk," he told me. "Look at you! Navy looks good on you. And I love it when you wear your glasses. You look so studious and serious. But I know you're a naughty boy," he growled. He slipped his hands between my shirts and found my nipples with his thumbs, rubbing them in slow circles. He kissed me again, drawing my tongue into his mouth and gently sucking it. My arms encircled his waist, palms rubbing lazily across the small of his back.

All too quickly he pulled away from me. "We should really go. Emmett will be calling us every few minutes if we ditch him again." He looked at me seriously. "We can always dance tonight." A smile played across his beautiful, full mouth.

I kissed him again. I couldn't resist that mouth. "Ok. But just so you know, I fully expect to be able to peel those jeans off your gorgeous body when we get home tonight. Deal?"

"Deal," he happily agreed.

#

When we arrived at the club, Emmett and Rosalie, Jasper's sister, greeted us. We met Emmett when we were freshmen at UW. Emmett, a bear of a man with a booming voice and huge personality, was a year older than us and was now working for a production company as a location scout. He dabbled in making small, indy films as well.

Rosalie was fifteen months older than Jasper. She was tall, blonde, and gorgeous. Looking at her you might think she was a stereotypical blonde. She was anything but. She was tough and strong enough to put Emmett in his place. She and Jasper were very close, but since she and Emmett and gotten so serious, Jasper's relationship with his sister had been strained. What it came down to was that they didn't get enough time together and missed each other.

Over a year ago, Rose had come to visit us for a week while she looked for work in Seattle. She found work as a buyer for Macy's. When she and Emmett met, they fought like cats and dogs. We thought we were going to have to hire a bouncer if they were in the same room.

One afternoon we left them alone at our house, hoping they would talk it out. When Jasper and I walked back into the house, we saw Rose and Emmett naked, laid out across our couch. I had to drag Jasper out of the house kicking so he wouldn't hurt Emmett. That was a tense few weeks, until Jasper saw how serious Emmett was about Rose. Now it was all good.

"Edward. Jasper. I'm glad you guys made it." Emmett pulled me into a tight hug while Rosalie kissed her brother on the cheek. "I was gonna drive over and drag you two out if you didn't show up. Lucky you came." Jasper grabbed Emmett's hand and was pushed forward when Em's huge hand came down to slap his back. Rosalie rolled her eyes and gave me a hug. "Come on, I got a table in the back," he hollered, turning several heads.

Following Emmett's huge form we made our way toward our table, and I saw that nearly everyone I expected was there. Alice, my cousin, was there with her partner, Bella. Both girls were very slight and quite short. I always felt I had to be careful not to hug them too tightly, for fear of breaking them. But Alice's sparkly personality over powered her small frame. Her inky black hair stood up in spikes and drew your eye to her delicate features. Bella had a simple beauty. She carried herself with grace and her wavy chocolate hair matched her deep, dark eyes.

Mike, a spiky haired blond who didn't easily take a hint, acting like an over-eager dog, sat next to his new girlfriend, who just so happened to be Jasper's ex, Jessica. She was overbearing at best and down right obnoxious at worst. They were probably a good match.

Ben and Angela were expected, but hadn't shown up yet. While they were very nice people, they were a little lack luster, and I didn't know them that well. Angela and Bella were good friends.

I followed Jasper and sat next to him. I noticed he chose a seat as far away from Mike and Jessica as he could, of which I was glad. At that point I wanted to strangle Mike for suggesting _Broke Straight Dudes_ to Jasper. Nonetheless, I gave him a tight smile from across the table. We all sat around the table as couples, although no one there knew about Jasper and me. We intended on keeping it that way.

"So," Emmett started across the table from me, "What's kept you boys away from the party so long?" He was looking at Jasper and me.

We both answered at the same time. "School," I said. "Life," quipped Jasper.

"Well, that's not a good excuse. You guys need to be less serious and get out more. You need to loosen up and have fun. Fuck!" Emmett gave a big belly laugh that drew eyes from all around.

"I've been spending a lot of time in the studio. In January we both start internships, so we have a lot to do before then," I said. Schoolwork had increased a lot this year, and we had little free time anymore.

"Yeah, school's been busy, and I've been bugging my agency to find me jobs," Jasper admitted. I saw Mike give him a knowing look, and I couldn't keep myself from glaring at him. He quickly looked away and started a conversation with Jessica.

"How are you doing Alice?" I asked. We were more like siblings than cousins. She was central to my support when I came out, having done so a year before me. She and Bella had been together for 4 years and had a great relationship. I knew I could go to either of them with anything and they would be there for me.

"Things are good. We decided to buy a house," she shared. "We close right before Halloween, and I was thinking we should have a Halloween/House Warming Party. Will everyone come?"

You didn't turn down a party invitation when Alice was in charge. Nothing compared to an Alice party and we all knew we would go.

Conversations flowed around the table, as did drinks. After our relaxing day at my parents' house, I didn't know I could get any more relaxed. Of course, my dream did make me a bit tense. Morgan Cokes and Martini's did the trick.

After my third drink, I was starting to feel the music and having a difficult time sitting still. Reading my body language, Alice grabbed me by the arm and took me to the dance floor. I felt completely taken over by the beat and let it control my hips. No stranger to dancing, Alice moved in front of me and turned her back to me. We played off each other and people moved aside to give us some room.

Bella and Jasper joined us and soon we were moving as a foursome rather then two pairs. The beat was pumping through the speakers and I could feel it deep in my chest. My eyes met Jasper's and I was having a hard time keeping my hands to myself. It took everything I had to restrain myself from reaching over to him and running my fingers through his hair or down his chest.

The rest of our table joined us, and I noticed Ben and Angela had arrived too. I gave them a tipsy "hello" and kept dancing. By this point in the evening I was no longer dancing with Alice, but Jasper. Alice and Bella were all over each other, grinding and kissing.

I couldn't keep my eyes off of Jasper. They slid up and down his body. I was basically eye fucking him without shame. I watched as his hips thrust forward with the beat. His honey curls bounced as he shifted his weight back and forth on his feet. His eyes closed every so often. He'd open them and look at me with hooded lids, lust in his eyes. The muscles in his chest flexed as he moved his arms, and I could see his erect nipples pressing against the dark fabric of his shirt.

I had to get out of there. If I didn't, my mouth would have been on his and my hands exploring every part of his body. I headed back to the table without a word. As I sat down, I felt how hard I was. I rested my elbows on the table burying my head in my hands, pulling in deep breaths. They were doing nothing for me. I choked back a sob that threatened to escape my throat.

A hot hand slid onto the back of my neck, and I felt Jasper's hot breath on my ear. "Edward, what's wrong? Are you feeling ok?"

I released a mirthless laugh. It was better than sobbing. "Christ, Jasper. The only thing I want to do right now is touch you. I want to hold you and kiss you, and I can't!" I let my head fall to the table as the hopelessness of the situation overwhelmed me.

He must have ordered me a drink because I felt a shot glass being placed in my opened hand. I threw it down my throat without asking what it was, feeling its burning trail. Whiskey. Good whiskey. As I set down my glass, I saw him mirroring my movements.

He looked at me with intense eyes. Something was happening behind his blue orbs. He was questioning or considering something. I was mesmerized and continued to watch him as he worked through whatever he was thinking about. Slowly I saw his mouth turn up into a smile.

"Why don't you let go a little? No kissing but give in a bit. Don't hold on so tight," he suggested. Without another word, he grabbed my hand and led me back to the dance floor. We were far enough away from our friends that there were several bodies in their line of sight. Perfect.

Just then, the dance version of George Michael's "I Want Your Sex" came pumping through the speakers. People crowded the dance floor. I was a sucker for George Michael. I was a sucker for that song. I had been since I was a kid, and now I was singing to Jasper and dancing with him. This was basically a wet dream come true.

I let myself fall into the beat and allowed my body to move next to Jasper's. I popped my heterosexual space bubble at that moment and chose to move closer using my homosexual space bubble. I let go. I was me, the Edward who danced at the gay clubs, and I didn't care who saw.

_I've waited so long baby  
__Now that we're friends  
__Every man's got his patience  
__And here's where mine ends  
__I want your sex_

I was gone. Lost. Feeling his body rub up against mine had caused all of my blood to rush to my groin and rational thought left me. Without thinking, my lips parted, my hands cradled his face, and I drew Jasper to me. My tongue sought his out, our mouths lost in a dance of their own. Wet tongues. Deep and hungry our mouths sucked.

"Edward!"

Just then I heard Emmett's booming voice over the music calling my name, bringing me back to the present. I grabbed Jasper's hand tightly and dragged him back to the hallway by the bathroom. I took him deep down the hall and turned a corner where the emergency exit door stood, out of sight from the rest of the club.

Pushing him up against the wall I buried my tongue in his mouth. I was desperate for him. Ravenous kisses were laid on his lips before I moved my mouth across his chin toward his ear. I bit and sucked down the column of his neck, positive I was leaving marks and not caring an ounce.

I ran my palms down his chest, lightly scratching him on the way down before plunging a hand into his jeans. Grasping his cock with one hand I quickly released it from its leather, cotton, and denim confines. Kneeling before him I wrapped my lips around his rock solid cock and buried it deep in my throat. I quickly picked up a rhythm and soon felt hands tangling in my hair. I heard Jasper moan loudly and say my name.

With his hands still in my hair, Jasper held my head still and started to fuck my mouth. With nearly each stroke I could hear his voice, growing louder as he neared his climax. He thrust hard, pushing his cock deep down my throat, and I felt his hot nectar slide down. He pulsed inside my mouth as I sucked and licked him, helping him ride out his orgasm.

Working my way up his body I quickly refastened his pants and buckled his belt. I placed soft kisses on both of his nipples, and I buried my tongue in his mouth. He moaned, as he tasted himself on me. His mouth left mine and moved to my ear. In a deep, throaty whisper he said, "Turn around and face the wall."

He spun my body so my chest was pressed up against the wall he'd just been leaning against. His mouth clamped down on my neck making me gasp, right hand snaking around my body releasing my cock from my overly tight pants. He palmed me roughly and my hips bucked into his hand. Wrapping his fingers around me, he stroked my length. I looked over my shoulder at him and his mouth met mine with slow, sensuous kisses. His hand sped up as his mouth became more gentle. The varied sensations were too much for my brain to process. Soft and sweet above, rough and fast below. I moaned into his mouth, unable to hold back. My body soon followed suit. I felt muscles tighten and I quickly released, my come spurting all over the wall in front of me. Jasper continued stroking me through my body's spasms.

"Better?" he gruffly said in my ear. I nodded.

We heard Emmett's booming voice coming down the hall and looked at each other in shock. Making our way around the corner toward the men's bathroom, Emmett spotted us. He was glaring at Jasper. He kept walking toward us, forcing us back into the corner we just left. I looked over at Jasper and saw his flushed skin and his "freshly fucked" face betraying us. I wondered what I looked like.

"What the hell, Jasper! What the fuck's going on? I see you two out on the dance floor just having fun and the next time I look over, I see you sucking face with Edward. What the fuck?" He was directing all of his fury out on Jasper. He didn't even make eye contact with me once. I was afraid of what Jasper would do. This wasn't how this should've come out, and it was all my fault because I couldn't keep my dick in check. "What the hell's going on with you Jasper? You better not be fucking with Edward's feelings, man."

_Shit! What the hell did I do? I totally fucked him over and now what?_

Jasper drew himself up to his full height and took a step toward Emmett forcing him to retreat. "Emmett, Edward's my boyfriend, and if I want to kiss him while we're dancing I'm going to. And I don't give a flying fuck if you don't like it! I don't need _your_ permission. I'm not fucking with his feelings. He's my boyfriend. Now are you going to back the fuck off?" Jasper wrapped his left hand around his right fist, knuckles white.

Emmett took three steps back and fell against the wall, which he used for support. Jasper reached over and grabbed my hand, pulling it to his mouth so he could kiss it. Emmett looked at us, stunned.

I was shocked over what just happened and my arm wrapped around Jasper's waist. He looked at me, winked, and smiled. Then he did something I didn't think I'd see for a long time. He took my face in his hands and gently removed my glasses, pulling me close and kissing me in front of Emmett. And this wasn't a sweet, chaste kiss. No. His lips parted and his tongue brushed across mine. Our tongues met again and again. When he pulled back, he replaced my glasses and we both turned to look at Emmett.

"Jesus Christ, don't tell me I have to keep this a secret from Rose?" he pleaded. "She can tell when I'm lying. She can even tell if I'm not telling her the whole truth. She'll drag this out of me, guys. She really will."

"Can you give us a few minutes, Emmett?" Jasper asked. "We'll meet you at the table. We need to talk." With that, Emmett left, shaking his head as he went.

Jasper turned to me and said, "Let's go outside and talk for a few minutes. It's too loud in here for me to think." He held my hand, leading me through the club and out the front door. We walked down the street into the cool night air and sat on a bench just below a streetlight.

"Jas—"

"Don't even think about apologizing to me, Edward." I took a breath and he continued. "I know that's what's going to come out of your mouth, but save it, because I'm not sorry. In fact, I'm relieved. I've been holding this secret in for long enough and it's slowly killing me. I thought I was protecting myself, but really it's hurting. I'm hurting you. I'm hurting me. I'm hurting us.

"Since we talked at the coffeehouse, I went through my old photos. I looked at all of the pictures of us and tried to think about what I was feeling at the time they were taken. More often than not, I was thinking about how happy I was to be with you. I was hoping what we had would never end.

"Now that I'm being more honest with myself, even more honest than I was a few days ago, I realize I've had feelings for you for years. I've hidden them too fucking long. I'm done hiding.

"Emmett seeing us kiss in there was a good thing. If I hadn't wanted you to kiss me out on the dance floor, I would've pushed you away. I wanted to taste your lips as bad as you wanted to taste mine. I could barely contain myself. If you hadn't dragged me into the back, I'm sure I would've.

"This is a good thing, Edward. This is what I need. I need to go back in there and tell our friends I'm gay. And yes, I said gay, because I am, Edward," he looked at me with great intensity.

I was stunned by his admissions. I couldn't have spoken if I had tried, so I continued to listen.

"We have great friends. Alice and Bella will be cool. Emmett already knows. Ben and Angela, no problem. I don't really care enough about Mike or fucking Jessica to be hurt if they have an issue with it. The only one that scares me is Rosalie and that's because I'm afraid she'll tell mom and dad before I'm ready. This is as good a time as any," he said triumphantly.

"Okay," I managed. "I'll be there holding your hand the entire time. How do you want to handle Rose?" I questioned.

"Well, I think maybe I should talk to her alone first."

"Good idea. How about I go in and get her. I'll have her come out here. I'll see you back in the club, ok?" I leaned over and kissed him before getting up. I put my hand on his shoulder and said, "Everything is gonna to be great, Jasper. This is this the right thing."

Heading back into the club I was assaulted by the music. I quickly found Rosalie sitting down next to Emmett who looked like he had swallowed a canary.

"Rose, Jasper wants to talk to you. He's outside the club sitting on a bench." I looked at her, trying to convey that this was important.

"Why can't he talk in here?" she protested.

"Rose. Please. It's important."

"Yeah," Emmett encouraged, "go. I'll be here waiting for you. Should I order you another?" he asked, holding up a glass. She nodded and headed out the door.

"Did she ask you anything?" I queried.

"I told her I was flashed by a girl back by the bathroom. It distracted her and she's been trying to locate the girl ever since." His face showed relief. "Is he going to tell her? Like, now?"

"Yep. He wanted to tell her first and to see if she could keep it quiet until he has a chance to talk to their parents." I was nervous.

Emmett and I talked for a bit. We talked about minutiae as we waited for Jasper and Rosalie to return. It seemed to take forever, but when I looked at my watch, I saw it was only about twenty minutes.

When we saw Jasper and Rosalie walking back into the club, Emmett ordered a round of shots. He motioned for everyone to come back and sit at the table. They were walking arm in arm with smiles on their faces. Rosalie came up to me and pulled me into a big hug.

"If you hurt him, you die," she threatened in my ear. I gulped audibly. Then she pulled back, smiled sweetly, and kissed me on the cheek.

Jasper returned to the seat next to me just as our shots were delivered. He looked confident. I reached for his hand under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze before he returned the gesture. Emmett nodded toward the shots and Jasper took the hint. He picked up his glass and motioned for everyone else to do the same.

He put his arm around my shoulder and looked into my eyes. I put my hand on his knee, circling softly with my thumb. "To revelations and new relationships." We threw back our shots and then Jasper rested his forehead on mine. The table was silent as he leaned over and gently kissed me.

Alice gasped and squealed so loud I thought my ears were going to explode. Jasper burst out laughing and prepared for her onslaught. It didn't take long before we were covered in Alice's hugs and kisses. Bella quickly followed. Emmett stood behind us and put his hands on each of our shoulders, pulling all three of us into an awkward hug before he kissed both of us on the head. Rosalie stayed in her seat but watched us with loving eyes.

Things were said. Questions asked. Answers given. The six of us were so caught up in each other that we forgot about the other four people at the table.

Slowly our attention was drawn back. Ben and Angela were both smiling and when they were given a chance, they told us how happy they were for us and how proud they were of Jasper for being true to himself.

Mike and Jessica, on the other hand, looked withdrawn and confused, almost angry. It was tense for a minute before Alice redirected the conversation. Not long after, Mike and Jessica excused themselves and left for the night. We were all glad to see them go.

Now that Jasper and I made it official to our friends, we headed back to the dance floor and danced however the hell we wanted. We danced close, very close. We touched. We kissed. We allowed ourselves to be overtaken by the beat and each other's bodies. Nothing was in our way.

Our night of dancing came to a close and we headed back home, exhilarated and exhausted. We quickly got into our natural states and fell into my bed. We talked about our night and our friends. I wanted to talk about more things that should be _ours_, but my eyelids fell, and I drifted off to sleep before I had the chance.

* * *

**Edit: 1/26/12**


	8. Pieces

**Pieces**

I woke up early the next morning fully expecting a hangover but was pleasantly surprised. Jasper was still resting soundly next to me, his full lips pushed out as he slept like he wanted to be kissed. Leaning in I lightly touched my lips to his, able to avoid waking him. I slowly eased the comforter aside and slid out of bed. Looking back at him sleeping on his stomach, I noticed the sheet resting below his hips, giving me a beautiful view of the rise and fall of his ass. The light hit him perfectly, allowing shadows to hug his dimples and causing my cock to take notice.

I headed to my bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror as I waited for the water to warm up. My dark green eyes were clear and bright, though obviously tired. I ran my fingers through my nest of bronze hair, but nothing would help that. It just stayed that way. All of the styling product in the world wouldn't help. I'd tried everything. I ran my fingers across my forehead and down my cheekbones before I leaned into the mirror and studied my lips. They were full, but a darker color than Jasper's, like I had eaten raspberries and the juice had stained my skin slightly after I had licked it away. My lower lip was fuller than my upper, but my mouth wasn't that wide, beautiful mouth that Jasper had. Nothing could compare to that mouth.

My tongue darted out to lick my top lip and the events of last night tumbled through my mind. I watched as the corners of my mouth turned up in reaction to my memories. Emmett's anger and confusion melted away the minute Jasper proudly stood up to him and told him we were dating. Boyfriend. My heart swelled. I wasn't surprised by how easily our news was accepted because we have great friends who support us. Now that our relationship was revealed to them, it felt like Jasper was even more mine. I wondered if each revelation would release another part of him to me.

Stepping into my large walk-in shower, I washed the grime from the club away. I laughed out loud at the recollection of Emmett's reaction. He thought Jasper was taking advantage of me. He was trying to protect me. Emmett had known I had a thing for Jasper for years. I'm sure he flipped his lid when he saw us kissing on the dance floor.

After I finished in the bathroom, I decided to make breakfast. Not wanting to disturb Jasper, I decided to forgo rummaging around for clothes and stayed nude. Waffles seemed to be a good choice, since I didn't really want to risk a grease burn on my cock. Safety first. I was just finishing up with the last waffle when he walked freshly showered out of the bathroom. As usual, he was naked. _Unf!_ We were both so used to being natural around each other this wasn't a surprise, especially in the mornings. It was, however, a lot hotter now that I got to ogle him freely and not conceal my appreciation for his body.

"Hey, I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed and here you are up and around," I said petulantly, pushing out my bottom lip.

He laughed and threw his hands up in surrender. "I was just headed back to bed. No worries."

"You'd better be, cowboy. Giddy up!" I chased him into my bedroom, smacking him on the ass. "Lay down! Now!" Jasper looked at me with wide eyes and a smirk. He quickly climbed into bed, running his fingers through his wet, wavy hair. I stalked toward him, crawling on the bed and straddling his body. "Are you going to stay here or do I need to tie you to the post?" I held both of his wrists with one hand above his head.

"Hmmmm," he said in flirty contemplation before I turned him over and smacked his ass.

"Be good. Stay here," I said as I dismounted my steed and my feet hit the floor.

As I headed out the door I heard him say, "Yes, sir," in a suggestive voice.

Looking over my shoulder I pointed at him with my _finger gun_ and said, "Watch it, Stud. BANG! I need to get breakfast." With our pantomime gunshot and death scene over, I headed toward the kitchen.

"I didn't know you could be so cold, Edward," he hollered after me.

I set down a tray in front of us as we sat cross-legged on the bed, leaning against the headboard. "I'm a very nice man, Jasper. Some even call me sweet." Cutting a piece of waffle, I gingerly brought it to his mouth but not before a drop of syrup landed on his chin. While he chewed, I leaned over and licked off the maple goodness. "You're sweet too. Mmm. But, I'll have you know, I can be feisty, especially if I don't get my way."

I sat back and took a bite. I really made good waffles.

"So, what do you have in store for this week?" I asked. We'd lived from moment to moment so much this week. It was nice, but I wanted to know his plans. I wanted him to know my plans. If we were going to try to merge our lives even closer, we needed to talk about these things.

"Well, I actually have a photo shoot. It's been planned for months. It's kind of a big deal." He paused for dramatic effect. "It's 2(x)ist. I'm not sure why they're shooting here, but they pulled my portfolio and wanted me."

"Are you kidding me? 2(x)ist? That's some hot underwear. Their ads are hot … no wonder they want you! That should help out with some cash flow."

"The shoot is on Thursday. Do you want to come? You can if you'd like," he sounded hopeful. "I'd like you to come."

"Sure. I don't have class. I assume you got out of your classes already?" He nodded.

We continued to feed each other in companionable silence, while our free hands roamed over naked skin. He tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. I rubbed my hand across his thigh. He kissed my shoulder. It was natural. Considering we were simply friends a few days ago, it was surprising how easily we fell into touch. We were fairly comfortable with touch before, but this was something more. We didn't have those awkward moments new lovers do where ticklish spots are discovered or undesirable touches are revealed. Our hands knew where to go, like a path was already set out, and all we had to do was follow the electricity toward our wanting.

Once we were done eating, I brought the tray back to the kitchen and cleaned up. Heading back to my room, I remembered my thoughts as I fell asleep last night. I wasn't sure how I was going to broach the subject, but I felt it was necessary. I couldn't explain why, really, except that I wanted to share more with him. This seemed logical.

When I returned, Jasper had settled back down into the soft, down pillows with his hands behind his head. As I did our first night together, I stopped in the doorway looking over his beautifully cut body. The muscles in his smooth chest stretched and tightened, drawing me closer. Nearing the end of the bed, I picked up his right foot and started working my thumb deeply into the muscles of his sole. He moaned and opened his eyes to look at me.

I knelt down and drew his big toe into my mouth, gently sucking. His eyes involuntarily rolled back before he met my gaze again. I ran my tongue over the top of his foot, feeling the texture of the tissue below. My hands continued their ministrations, and I kissed his toes, gently sucking each pad.

"You know, you have the most beautiful feet." I lifted his foot higher and trailed my lips across the arch of his foot. Moving sideways I placed biting nips along the edge of his outer foot ending at his smallest toe, and I was rewarded with a sigh. He liked me kissing his feet.

I seductively picked up his left foot and repeated my movements. "Have you ever considered being a foot model?" He shook his head. "You should, you know. Everything about your feet turns me on. They're flawless. I've always known they look great," I continued licking and sucking, "but I had no idea how delicious they tasted." He looked beyond relaxed.

Moving up his body I kissed along his inner thigh and buried my nose in his curls, breathing his scent in deeply. I took his cock into my mouth, lightly sucking and feeling him harden between my lips. Continuing my journey, I flattened my tongue, running it across his right nipple and tasting him. I needed more of him. My tongue trailed along his body easily following the line of his lower pectoral muscle. At his armpit, I ran the tip of my tongue along the edge of the muscle ridge. I buried my nose in, smelling his fresh scent.

I looked over at him and saw he was watching me. He gave me a lazy, crooked smile and said, "You never cease to amaze me by finding new parts of my body that bring me pleasure." With that, he rolled me over onto my back and started kissing me.

These were warm, loving kisses, not the desperate, nearly painful kisses of the night before. His open mouth trailed down my neck and chest. His hands traced the planes of my chest and he took one of my nipples in his mouth. I threw my head back at the sensation and moaned. His velvety hard cock dragged across my thigh as his mouth continued trailing toward my aching center.

Hot, wet kisses were placed along both sides of the V of my hips before he took my cock fully into his mouth. As he took me deep, he moaned around me. My hips bucked. I looked down because I had to make sure what I was feeling was really happening. He looked up at me through his lashes as he sucked and licked around my head.

"Jasper," I begged, "please."

_My God! This was Jasper._

_Jasper had his gorgeous, full lips wrapped around my cock._

_Jasper was making my body feel like this._

He sucked and swallowed and I nearly came at the sight of his beautiful mouth around me. Throwing my hands back, I grabbed the downy pillow behind my head, squeezing my excess energy into it so I wouldn't be tempted to push my cock deeper down his throat.

Closing my eyes, I gave into the sensations, drowning in the feel of his mouth. I felt his tongue lazily lick across my head and slide up and down the underside of my cock. He teased my frenulum, causing my back to arch off the bed. Languid kisses and licks around my head were left behind and replaced by long, sucking strokes down my shaft. I didn't know if I was going to be able to hold off much longer.

Reaching into my bedside table I found a condom and lube. He saw me and sat up as I handed him the condom.

"Are you sure, Edward?" He looked at me with a mixture of concern and longing.

I was usually the dominant one in my past relationships. If someone asked me, I would say I was a versatile lover, but in practice I would usually top. But knowing Jasper's recent experience, I knew I had to give him more power than I was used to relinquishing. The last thing I wanted him to think about the first time we made love was that video camera and set. I hadn't bottomed for anyone in years, but for Jasper, I would. I wanted Jasper to dominate me. I needed him to.

"I've never been more sure. I want to feel you buried deep inside me, Jasper."

He grabbed the lube and squeezed a few drops on his finger. My head fell back and I felt his wet finger slowly press into me. It had been sometime since I had been penetrated, but my body hungered for it and I quickly relaxed around him. He added a second finger as he continued to lick and suck my cock.

I ripped open the foil wrapper and sat up to roll it down Jasper's cock, rubbing several more drops of lube along his length. He sat on his knees and pulled my legs around his waist, giving me some power in this dance. He acted as if this was second nature to him. He seemed so comfortable, not unsure or nervous, like I anticipated he might be.

I felt his head push into me. His eyes met mine, asking silently if everything was okay. I nodded and urged him to continue. Ever so slowly he pressed forward, but I was ready for him. I didn't want to wait anymore. Using my legs wrapped around his waist, I pulled him into me until I felt his soft hair hit my ass. He gasped and paused.

"Give me a minute." He was panting, breaths coming quick and shallow. "So tight and warm. I don't want it to be over too quickly."

I could barely contain myself and my hips started to rock slightly. He responded by pulling back and then slowly thrusting into me. Our eyes locked and his mouth turned up slightly at the corners.

"Jasper, you feel so good deep inside me." His hips responded to my words, increasing their speed. He leaned forward, kissing me deeply as his palm moved toward my aching cock. "There you go, Jas. This is how it's supposed to be. Don't hold back, love."

His eyes darkened with desire as he pushed deeply in to me. Long strokes were broken up by few shorter trusts, creating a beautiful dance. His hand matched the rhythm his hips kept. Soon, he couldn't hold himself back any longer. Sitting back on his heels he wrapped his hands around my hips, driving into me again and again, our flesh slapping together.

I grabbed my cock and fisted myself, continuing to match his pace. I couldn't hold back any longer. Fighting with everything I had, I forced myself to keep my eyes on Jasper. I wanted to experience this with my eyes wide open. His thrusting quickened as I pulled him deeper into me with my legs.

"Look at me, Jas. Look in my eyes." He met them. "I'm gonna come." He nodded and with two final thrusts we came together gazing into each other's eyes. My muscles spasmed around him and his cock throbbed inside of me as we both rode it out together.

Jasper collapsed on top of my chest and covered my mouth with kisses.

"That was … Edward … fuck."

"I know," my breathing was ragged. "Fuck." We laughed.

Sitting back, Jasper pulled out of me and I ached from the loss of him. He threw away the condom while I got up and moved to my bathroom, where I got a wet washcloth. I rejoined him on the bed and started to gently wash his sensitive skin. Laying me back on the bed, he tenderly cleaned me, removing all traces of come and lube. Throwing the washcloth toward the hamper, he lay down beside me.

I pulled him toward me and placed kisses in his hair and on his sweat-dampened temple. He rested his head on my chest and wrapped his arm around my waist. Gradually I heard his breathing become more and more shallow as he started to drift toward sleep.

I wanted to tell him I loved him. I wanted him to know I'd loved him for years. I wanted him to know how I felt, but I was afraid it would be too much, too soon. It had been hard to hold myself back and it was proven to me last night. I kept trying to direct my feelings into my actions, to _show_ him I loved him through touch and letting him sleep and making him breakfast. I wasn't sure how much longer I could refrain from saying the words though.

But now wasn't the time. If I told him I loved him for the first time right after we had sex, it would feel forced, disingenuous somehow. That sounded crazy to me. But I wanted the moment to be perfect. For now, I'd continue to show him my love through my actions.

"Jasper?" He startled at his name and turned his face toward me. "I've been thinking about something." I took a deep breath to calm myself. I wasn't sure how this was going to be received. "I was wondering if you'd like to move in here."

Silence.

"Would you like to share a bedroom with me? I want to fall asleep with you every night. I want my first sight in the morning to be your face. I want to smell you on our sheets when you're not here." I braced myself for his response.

He took a deep breath and then I felt him shaking in my arms. What was happening? Then, I heard his chuckles break through the silence. He looked up at me. "That's the best idea I think you've ever had, Edward. I haven't slept in my bed for the last several nights and I was dreading going back. The thought of it was making me physically ill." He sat up and took my hands, looking deep into my eyes. "I'd love to move in here. I want you to bookend every one of my days, too."

#

After a quick inventory later that day, we decided we needed some new things for our bedroom. A shopping trip was planned for later in the week.

_Our _was quickly becoming my favorite word.

We had very willingly ignored all of our schoolwork since our conversation at the coffeehouse so we had a lot to catch up on. While our relaxing weekend was needed and appreciated, it was time to get to work.

Heading out to our studio—_Our, see? There's that word again._—we started to talk about our student art show. We pulled out pieces we intended to use in our displays and tried to see what common threads we could pull together. With Jasper's show highlighting his typography and mine showcasing my cartooning, we thought since text was involved in both of our work, it would marry easily. We found it a bit more challenging.

I decided to include several illustrations I had designed for an advertising campaign and Jasper wanted to show some of his computer-generated images as well. Much of what we did for class work, and would do in our jobs, tended to be computer work. We decided to include several pieces that were completely devoid of modern technology, since that type of work was our first love.

"What do you think we should call our exhibit?" he asked absentmindedly, as he played with Nunzilla, winding her up and letting her go. Earlier in the day, I brought my digital camera to the studio and took photos of all of the pieces we were considering. We used contact sheets to consider our selections, for simplicity's sake. We had been studying the thumbnails of the pieces trying to find a link or two.

"I'm not sure. My cartoons are often satirical or political statements people don't usually admit to having in public. My ads have sexual or sensual undertones." Jasper quirked a brow at me like I had just told a dirty joke. "Look at the coffee campaign." I drew his attention to a woman taking a "sip" from a mug filled with oily coffee beans. "What do you see when you look at the beans? Do you see anything?"

He scrutinized the photo, pulling out a magnifier loupe to get a closer look. He gave a small gasp. "I can't believe I didn't see this before. The coffee beans look like a penis. You dirty dog. It's like the naked man on a pack of Camels. You've been holding out on me. Anything else you want to confess?" His smirk drew my eyes to his wide mouth and full lips. I didn't stand a chance. In I went, kissing and licking his beautiful, pink mouth. He pulled back laughing. "Seriously, Edward. How many other penises have you hidden in here?" he said, gesturing to the thumbnails.

"Aside from the obvious one," I gestured to my lap, "I guess a few more," I admitted sheepishly.

Looking at the contact sheet, I drew his attention to a few other subtly explicit pieces and a few that weren't so subtle. Much of this work Jasper hadn't seen because it was completed and handed in to my professors. I didn't think they were that great, but they showed my range as an artist. I was never compelled to share this work with Jasper.

Jasper's graphic design work was varied. He had projects including the human form, nature scenes, and some industrial designs. They all had a fluidity and honesty about them, like part of his soul was woven into each piece. Each piece seemed to mimic the human body in one way or another, creating a sensuality you didn't even comprehend unless you allowed yourself to look at the work long enough.

Due to his love of typography, many of his pieces were studies of words drawn in various fonts that he designed. Secrets. Love. Hide & Seek. Ahhhh. Home. Friends. There were many more, but the one my eye fell on was the word confession.

"Confession," I said aloud, almost as a question.

"What about it?" he asked continuing to wind up Nunzilla and letting her walk across his desk, spitting her sparks and looking creepy.

We were trying to tie it together, wrap it into something that brought our pieces together. When I saw the word confession, I wondered if this could go deeper.

"This exhibit is for us to showcase our work, right?" He nodded looking at me with some confusion since I was stating the obvious. "Well, it's our show. How would you feel about the show making a statement about us too?" Now I had really lost him.

"Okay, look," I tried to better explain myself. "So much of what we have before us is about secrets and things people keep hidden from the rest of the world, even from themselves. Like the image of a penis in a coffee cup. No one really thinks about sucking cock while they sip coffee, but people talk about coffee using the same words they use to describe an orgasm. Even facial expressions are mimicked and the sounds we make when we take our first sip.

"Your studies in the human form—look at your focus. You didn't really study the forearm or the calf. You focused on erogenous zones—the inner elbow, the back of the knee, ears, the neck, collarbone, the small of the back—secret places only your lover knows how to touch to illicit a response." I leaned over his back and bit his neck, right where he liked it. His head lolled to the side to give me more room as he moaned, and I kissed my way up the column of his neck to taste him below his ear. Nunzilla walked off the desk and crashed to the floor, unnoticed.

"I know your secrets, Jasper," I whispered in a deep, husky voice that surprised me with its wanton need. "Your body confesses its desires to me, whether you want me to know your secrets or not." I bit him again and he moaned. "See, I can even make you moan for me. I know exactly how to touch you to make you come for me."

He reached up behind my neck, pulling my head down toward his mouth. Soft, warm lips met mine in languid kisses. This was what confessions were about. I wanted this art show to be more than simply a display of our work. I wanted it to be a display of our love, like my kisses were at that moment.

Pulling away after who knows how long, I pointed at the thumbnail of the word Confession. He whimpered at the loss of our connection. "That's our theme, Jasper. Confessions of our hearts, our thoughts, our bodies, our desires."

He turned in his chair to face me pulling me on his lap to straddle him. "I like it," he murmured against my lips, his breath mingling with mine. "What about including some of our personal sketches?" His tongue darted out to trace my bottom lip, torturously slow. I shuddered in response. "Would you have a problem with that?" he asked before deepening the kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth completely and without hesitation. All too quickly I pulled away before I lost my train of thought.

"Like what? What are you thinking about?" I was the confused one now, perhaps because I was just kissed senseless.

"I was thinking I could show some of my recent drawings of you. Those were my confessions to myself. I'd like to include those. How would you feel about that?" he asked.

"I don't have a problem with that. I have several I can include too, but are you ready to make such a public statement about us? A lot of people will come, friends and family. I mean, it'll be obvious to everyone who comes through the exhibit, won't it, with Jasper Whitlock signed on studies of my body? Your parents will be there," I reminded him. I wasn't sure he was ready for this yet.

"It's not until spring. That gives me time to tell my parents and for them to warm up to the idea." He looked thoughtful, pensive. "So, Confessions?" he asked.

"Confessions. Now shut up and kiss me."

#

The rest of the week we caught up on our lives. We brought our contact sheets in to our respective professors and proposed our joint show. They were both supportive of our exhibit idea and contacted each other to decide how the logistics were going to be handled. In the end, Dr. Banner decided to guide us through the process. He was supportive of our ideas, and understood the meaning behind the pieces we chose and the significance of our title. He got it … all of it.

One more person knew about Jasper and me. I felt another little sliver of Jasper fall in place in my heart.

At our second visit to Dr. Banner's office, Jasper reached over and held my hand during our meeting. It surprised me, to say the least, but I was so happy he felt comfortable enough to show me affection, even if it was in front of another gay man.

I started to feel a bit more secure that our relationship could start to become more public with our friends and colleagues. I didn't feel as secure when it came to family. I wasn't sure when he would tell his parents yet, or mine for that matter, but I was becoming increasingly more anxious about it. As my anxiety increased I dreamed about the faceless man again, though, I didn't wake up screaming.

#

On Thursday morning, my alarm went off at four so we could get to Jasper's photo shoot. After two cups of coffee, we were both finally able to begin functioning. He was used to early shoots, but I was not a morning person. At all!

We drove to the location and easily found a parking spot since no one was awake at five a.m., nor should they be, unless they haven't gone to bed yet. We walked into a large, spacious loft that had various backdrops hung from beams. Floor to ceiling windows lined an entire wall that was facing the east. The sun wasn't even up yet.

The director spotted us and walked over. "You must be Jasper and Greg."

"I'm Jasper," he offered his hand, "and this is my friend Edward." I shook his hand.

"Okay. Jasper, we'll get started on you while we wait for Greg to show up." Just then his cell phone rang and he answered. "Hello. What? Are you kidding me? Do you know what type of position this puts me in?" He turned toward me and ran his eyes over my body before he turned back to his conversation. "They wanted a blond and a brunette, right? Well, lucky for you a hot brunette just happened to show up with the other model. You have to make this right with the client." He hung up quickly and blew a quick puff of air through his lips, causing his hair to rise and fall.

"Edward, have you ever modeled before?" he asked as he scanned my body, turning me around to continue his scrutiny.

"Uhm … no, not really. Just in art class a time or two." Jasper looked at me, his eyebrows disappearing under his blond curls.

"Well, you're modeling today." I'm sure shock was painted on the four corners of my face. I really just wanted another cup of coffee.

And with that, I was swept off with Jasper to be buffed and polished and oiled up. Now I understood why Jasper's skin was always so soft under my lips; they scraped most of it off. Some sort of contract was shoved under my nose, as a lady shaved unwanted hair from my body. It all happened so fast I didn't really have time to comprehend what was happening.

Before I knew it, Jasper and I were led behind a curtain where every imaginable style of underwear and shirt were hung on clothes racks. I immediately thought of Alice and how jealous she would be that I had access to all this fashion, even if it was men's underwear. A tiny lady named Jane was there to help dress us.

Jasper brazenly stripped out of his clothes. I must have been staring at him with eyes as big as saucers, because he had to tell me it was ok and safe to undress. I had never done this, but apparently this was simply a day in Jasper's life as a model. It was like baptism by fire for me. I slowly undressed, carefully trying to hide myself from Jane, but soon she was in front of me examining me to determine what size I should wear.

Jasper and I were both wearing black briefs with a colorful waistband that faded from orange to yellow at the center. We were led in front of a red backdrop and the director started giving us instructions.

We started our shoot together with the director telling us to get closer and closer. I wasn't sure I could keep myself from getting hard when I was so close to my nearly naked Jasper. I felt his warm skin and smelled the cloves coming off his body. I tried thinking of rabid dogs, hospital smells, and mathematical equations. Nothing was really helping.

The director noticed my predicament and told me to get behind Jasper for another pose. His exact words were, "Get behind your boyfriend and hide your cock in his ass so I can finish these shots."

My eyes darted to Jasper as I made my way around his body. He was looking at the director with contempt as he shook his head ever-so-slightly. If I hadn't been looking at him, I would have missed the small movement entirely.

I followed the orders and came to stand at Jasper's side, my cock hidden behind his right cheek, almost what I was told to do. He had me rest my cheek on Jasper's shoulder and lay my arm across his chest, resting my hand on the opposite shoulder. Our legs were positioned to get the best shot of the underwear. Several shots were taken in this stance with subtle variations, different head positions, Jasper touching my hand, us looking at each other, looking away, eyes closed.

Eventually we were led back to change into different underwear. Jasper must have seen how nervous I was so he tried to bring some levity to the situation.

"You know Edward, I was a bit disappointed you didn't hide your cock _in_ my ass out there. In fact, I'm surprised you were able to hide it _behind_ my ass with the heat you were packing." He gave me a mischievous smile and slapped me on the ass as he left.

Jane walked back in the room as Jasper was taken back onto the set for some individual shots. She told me I could head out and watch the monitor while I waited for my solo shots.

Making my way toward the monitor, I saw some of the photos that had been taken of the two of us. They were beautiful. The light and shadow played off our muscled bodies as we embraced each other. The contrast between our hair color and pale skin created a beautiful palate in color and in black and white.

I watched at Jasper's photo shoot continued. He really was good at this. His body moved, muscles flexing to accentuate the underwear. His lips formed the perfect open-mouthed pout. His eyes were hooded and he looked up at the camera through his lashes.

Fuck me! I wasn't going to be able to avoid an erection if I kept this up.

I don't know how I managed it, but eventually my cock left me alone. It might have been the nerves that overcame me when the director called me over. No matter. I was grateful. Jasper and I wore about every style of underwear imaginable in a rainbow of colors, modeling together about half of the time.

As we were leaving the director complimented me on my work. Jasper discreetly pulled him aside and talked to him about something I couldn't hear. It was a simple conversation that quickly turned a ugly. The guy was an ass, and I saw Jasper cringe at the way the guy talked to him. I had a feeling it had something to do with being gay from his expression of disgust as he looked back and forth between us. Jasper wasn't used to the condescension some people had. I had years to get used to the overt looks and crude comments. This might have been his first, real experience of prejudice directed at him.

As we walked out of the loft, I grabbed Jasper's hand to comfort him but he quickly pulled away. I tried not to be hurt, but honestly, I ached. We had just spent most of the day nearly nude touching each other in front of a camera and now he was pulling away from my hand. That extra piece of Jasper I had felt lock into place yesterday in Dr. Banner's office, seemed to slip back out.

* * *

**Edit: 1/26/12**


	9. Truth & Light

**Truth & Light**

During a shopping trip earlier in the week we ended up ordering a new, larger dresser for our bedroom that would accommodate all of our clothes. We moved my smaller one into Jasper's soon-to-be old room.

Late Friday morning after the store called, we drove Jasper's truck to bring the dresser home. Now that we had the needed furniture, we could officially make Jasper's move to our room. My walk-in closet had a lot of extra room for his hanging clothes and shoes. Mom had redesigned my bathroom with the intention of a partner living with me some day, so half of the space was unclaimed.

It took most of the afternoon, but when we were done, we were rewarded with the simple knowledge that this was _our_ room, in _our_ house. There was nothing I wanted more than to share my bed with him.

On our new dresser, he placed his Murano glass next to my Chihuly. Stone carvings joined my metal sculpture. Two jars sat next to each other—one blue and one green—holding coins that had collected in our pockets. Our ties hung side by side in the closet, separated by only a thin strip of wood. I pounded a few nails in the wall so Jasper could hang some of his favorite images. Clove shampoo sat beside my peppermint. Slowly but surely, his stuff joined my stuff, touching and sharing the same air, adding to the eclecticism of the space. It felt good. It felt right.

Jasper's room was turned into a nice guest bedroom. His full-size bed stayed for now, but we had hopes of replacing it with a queen. It would serve its purpose for the company we had, which was basically limited to his parents.

_Ugh! I didn't even want to go there yet._

Since Jasper dropped my hand after the photo shoot yesterday, I had been slightly panicked. I tried talking myself down, but his actions made me feel like I was losing control. Not that I ever had control over when or how he would come out, but I felt like I had been part of the discussion. Yesterday I felt excluded, like I was forced to sit at the kid's table at Thanksgiving dinner even though I was an adult.

I didn't like this feeling. My anxiety grew with every interaction we had in public. When we went to Macy's to buy new linens, I felt him walking further away from me, making certain our bodies couldn't touch. When we picked up our dresser, I brushed up against him as I passed, and he jerked away from me. He avoided eye contact while walking around Target, pretending to be scanning the aisles for who knows what. Perhaps I was reading more into his actions than he intended, but it sure didn't feel like I was.

I needed to rejoin the grown up table. I had to be part of the conversation, because I was a part of this relationship. I wasn't going to allow him to push me away like this.

We were making our bed with our new linens when I decided to bite the bullet and just get my questions asked. I thought the "rip the band-aid off" approach would be best.

"So, have you thought any further about telling your parents? Telling them about us? What did Rosalie think?" I asked skeptically, running my fingers through my messy hair. I gently scratched my scalp as I waited.

He took a breath through the side of his mouth. "Actually, I think I want to practice first. Coming out to our friends was good. It gave me some confidence. But, I was thinking about telling your parents first," he said, looking up at me with hope.

"That sounds reasonable," I nodded, smiling at the thought of my mother's face when she finally heard.

"I mean, they're my second family and being able to rehearse one more time can't be bad. Either that," he paused and his voice lowered, "or I'm just never going to tell my parents," he finished with a quick, wry laugh.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "At some point you have to tell them. What will they think when they come to stay here and you're sleeping in our room?"

"I just thought I'd sleep on the couch when they were here," he admitted sheepishly, looking down at his bare feet.

"What?" I was shocked and angry. "Oh no, you won't. You moved in here. This is our room. This is our house. I won't have anyone, parent's or not, dictate where you or I sleep. I respect that you aren't ready to tell your parents today, but our sleeping arrangement isn't about them unless we're at their house." My voice rose as I started to panic further, fearful he was already done with me because of the words of some prick. I felt blood rush to my face as I chided myself for falling so easily. Already he wanted out. I was defensive, my words much more caustic than what was in my heart. I was afraid, and I didn't want to cry in front of him.

"In our house we'll sleep in our bed, even if they are our guests. In our house I'll fuck you in our bed with them listening on the other side of the door if I want." I practically yelled.

"I'm not ashamed of us," I said, pointing fiercely at my chest. "I'm not ashamed of what we do in our bed. Are you? Are you ashamed, Jasper?" Angry tears fell from my eyes and I roughly wiped them away. I heard my ragged breathing and saw my hands shaking.

Jasper looked at me with his jaw hanging open. He didn't say a word.

Nothing.

I had to get out of there. If I didn't, I would say or do something more that I'd regret. Grabbing my keys and wallet I headed toward my car. I backed out of the driveway leaving tread marks on the pristine concrete.

I didn't know where I was headed. I just drove as tears fell.

Was this a joke to him? Had he been lying to me? To himself? Why the fuck would he say yes to moving into my room if he had no intention of being honest? Fuck!

I thought things were going well. We told our friends, and that was easy. Even telling Rosalie was fine. Okay, she threatened me, but she's a protective big sister, that's her job. _What if Jasper meant what he said? God, he better not mean it._ I couldn't live like that. Not telling his parents? That just couldn't happen. He had to tell them. What would that mean for him? He couldn't hide this because it would kill us. It would kill him. Honestly, it would kill me.

But if he _really_ didn't want to tell his parents, could I live like that? Just thinking about it opened a hole inside of me. I wasn't sure why at first, but as I continued to drive down the tree lined streets, flashes played before me. It was like a dream state had taken me over as I drove. I saw Jasper standing before me, his arms crossed over his chest in defiance. I saw myself pleading, begging him to come out. Jasper walked into our darkened front closet and shut the door behind him. I went to open the door, but when I did, he was gone. The closet was empty, holding nothing but my coats, shoes, and umbrellas. Nothing of his remained.

He would leave me. He'd walk out of my life entirely.

My heart started beating so hard I thought it would rip through my chest. I saw my hand shake as I tried to open the window to cool the car down from its sudden inferno-like heat. I couldn't take a breath. I had to pull over or I was going to kill someone.

I sat there, watching myself tremble, trying to calm my breaths. Music. I needed music. I turned on my stereo and quickly found my "Calm the Fuck Down Cullen" playlist on my iPod. As soon as the piano started it's soothing tones, I felt my body start to soothe. The delicate sounds of the first, few tentative notes pulled my mind away from my body. Thirds were followed by perfect fifths which led into augmented triads, held firm and strong. By the time those full, deep chords where pulled apart and played as individual notes, my breathing had returned to normal and my heart slowed to adagio, to match the tempo of the song.

I merged back into traffic and tried to be truthful with myself.

I knew how I felt before I came out and was honest. I was an angry kid at times, lashing out a people around me. Inside I felt empty, hollow. It hurt to walk around in public knowing no one else felt like me. No one would accept me for who I really was. No one would love me. Wouldn't telling his parents release him from all of those feelings? He just needed to be honest with his parents so he could be truthful with himself.

What the hell was I doing? How long had it been? What, a week? Did I really expect him to tell the world about us in a week? I knew I wasn't being fair to Jasper. I was expecting too much too fast, but I didn't want to wait any longer, God damn it!

I'd waited for years for this, and now that it was happening, it was going too fucking slow. I knew how irrational that sounded. I wanted fucking public acknowledgment. I wanted him to walk up to his father and mother, look them in the eye, and be truthful like he had been with Emmett.

I hid for too long. I hid from my family and myself. I hid from Jasper. When I hid in that closet, I lost years of opportunities to be loved for who I was. I wasn't about to go back behind closed doors to feel that emptiness again, least of all in my own home.

Jasper deserved more.

But I knew Jasper was dreading telling his parents. He couldn't even talk to them about simple money matters. The fact that their son's sexual orientation had suddenly changed would put them into shock. His father was still in the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" mindset of the military. When he found out I pitched for the other team, he was cold and withdrawn for a year. He never treated me the same again, but at least now he was civil. How would he treat his own son? How bad would it be?

I knew Jasper's father could be a violent man. When we were seventeen, Jasper came over to our house one summer night with a bruise blooming on his cheek. It was the only time his father had hit him, he told my father as he examined the damage. He never told me what their argument was about, but after that night, Jasper spent his time with me at my house. I went to his house only a handful of times after, mainly to pick him up and drop him off.

I didn't think his father would ever hit him again. The time Jasper spent away from his house after his father hit him did a lot to change their relationship. It was the one way Jasper let his father know he wouldn't put himself in the position to be hit again. He hasn't spent more than a week or so with his parents since we left for college.

_What would I do if Jasper's father got violent again?_ I felt my face flush at the thought and bile rose from my stomach. The thought sickened me.

Before I realized what I was doing, I was pulling into Alice and Bella's driveway. I was still angry, but my mood had tempered some with my concern. I took some deep breaths and tried to further calm myself before I knocked at their door.

Alice answered and read my face right away. Without words, she dragged me through the entryway and sat me down on the couch rubbing between my shoulder blades. My elbows rested on my knees and my head hung low.

"Bella," her voice rang, "could you bring a glass of bourbon to the living room." Within a few minutes I heard the padding of feet and felt a very large glass being placed in my hand. Looking up, I thanked Bella who sat across from us on the white loveseat.

"What happened, Eddie?" I grimaced at Alice's use of my hated nickname. "Sorry, Edward. What's going on?"

I took a small sip of the bourbon before taking half of the glass down. It burned, but felt good as it slipped down my throat. I welcomed the pain. I took a few unsteady breaths.

"Jasper moved into my bedroom today, so his old bedroom is now our guest bedroom. I asked about his parents. I asked him when he was thinking about telling his parents about us." I drained my glass. "He said he might not tell them, and when I asked about how he'd explain our new sleeping arrangements when they visit, he said that he'd just sleep on the couch while they were there. I fucking lost it." Sobs escaped me, once again.

_Must I cry about everything?_

I took a deep, shaky breath. "I accused him of being ashamed of us and when he didn't respond, I left. I didn't really give him a chance to answer." Guilt overcame me and a new round of anguish escaped from my tightening throat.

"I even told him I'd fuck him in our bed with his parents listening at the door if I wanted to. God, I'm a fucking asshole," I said, feeling disgusted with myself.

Alice started to giggle. I didn't see what was so fucking funny. I glared at her before she started to explain herself.

"Edward," she tried to keep a straight face with little success. "What happened isn't funny, but picturing the Colonel and his wife outside your door while you and Jasper are fucking," she fell over laughing, "is very … very … funny!" It was infectious and soon Bella and I were laughing, holding our stomaches along with Alice.

It felt good to laugh. I felt some of my anger fall away. I knew as soon as I had driven up to Alice and Bella's house that it was the right place for me to be. Bella's father hadn't been too accepting of their relationship at first, so they had some experience I could benefit from.

"I just don't want to hide," I admitted, shaking my head. "I am a proud, gay man. I don't hide that from anyone. I don't broadcast it, but ask anyone who has known me for longer than a month and they can tell you I'm gay. It comes out pretty early on in conversations." Bella refilled my glass and I drained it easily this time.

"One evening at the club, just a few hours of trying to keep it in, nearly killed me. Do you know how hard it was to be out there dancing and not be allowed to touch him?" The memory made me ache.

"Actually, Edward," Bella answered, looking down at her hands resting in her lap, "when the four of us were out there, I knew something was going on. Alice and I kept looking at each other, but didn't want to say anything."

"Mmhmm," Alice started, nodding her head "You and Jasper have always been touchy-feely with each other, but it was almost like the two of you were refusing any sort of physical contact. You guys went to the opposite extreme. It was weird. I had my suspicions something was up, and when you left the dance floor in a rush, Jasper was right behind you. As soon as he touched the back of your neck at the table, you visibly relaxed. That's powerful," she quipped with a knowing look.

"He didn't plan to come out to you guys that night at all, but Emmett saw us kissing and it was pretty much forced upon him. He said he was relieved, and I guess I got my hopes up. I'm pushing him too fast." I knew I was at fault here. I fucked up bad.

"Alice," I asked with genuine curiosity, "how did you handle it when Bella wasn't ready to tell her dad?"

Alice rolled her eyes and Bella blushed. "Let me tell you, it wasn't easy. I know exactly how you feel though. I thought Bella was embarrassed by me. But it has nothing to do with you, Edward. This is about Jasper and the fear of his family rejecting him, right?" She directed her query to Bella.

"Yes. I loved Alice and I knew what we had was beautiful. I wasn't self conscious about any of that, but I was positive my father would disown me. Of course, Charlie didn't, as you know. But it did put a kink in our relationship for a while. The turning point for me was when I asked myself if I really needed Charlie's approval to love Alice. I knew I didn't. I would love her no matter what. I would love him too, but I was building a life with Alice."

She was thoughtful for a moment. "Everyone goes through this in one form or another. Everyone in a relationship begins to pull away from his or her parents. For the most part, when you're straight you're accepted for who you are, even if your partner isn't always appreciated. But when you're lesbian or gay, there are other factors involved.

"When I told dad I was lesbian and that I loved Alice, I was asked things no straight girl would've been. 'Are you sure?' 'Could this be a college thing?' 'Have you even tried to be with a man?' Stuff like that. Did you get any of that from your parents?" she asked.

"No, nothing like that. Who I am was never questioned." I realized my experience with my parents was phenomenal at best and lucky at worst. But Jasper was going to be asked shit like that. Who knew what they'd do? Accuse me of seducing him? Question his manhood? Disown him? Physically assault him again?

All of a sudden I felt like a heel. How could I be so selfish? I hadn't even considered how bad it could be for him or what he was struggling with as he contemplated coming out. I finished my bourbon and placed my glass on the coffee table. I had to make this right, but the bourbon had quickly gone to my head.

"Alice, can you drive me home? I need to talk to Jasper right now."

With Bella following us in her red truck, Alice told me not to be too hard on myself and praised me for standing up for my part. "Once Bella came out to her father," she shared, "things got better for us. She stopped sneaking around and lying to him. That made our relationship better. I knew she felt some shame until she came clean with Charlie, but it was the shame of lying, not shame over us. After coming clean, there was no more embarrassment or lies. I know it's hard and you feel like you're pushing him, but in the end you're doing him a favor."

Alice pulled into the driveway, turned off the car, and handed me my keys. "Thanks for the ride," I said, pulling her into a tight hug. She sped to Bella's truck and I got out of my car quietly.

As I rounded the garage, our navy blue bungalow came into view. The sun had just set, but there was still light shimmering around the yard. I saw Jasper pushing our reel mower across the lawn. He wore long, red basketball shorts hung low on his hips. The muscles in his back were straining as he pushed the nearly silent machine forward, cutting the dark green blades of grass. He paused, grabbing his discarded shirt that was tucked in his waistband and drew it across his forehead to wipe away beads of sweat.

Just then his head turned to me. His eyes were sad and sincere. He dropped the mower handle to the ground and started walking toward me. I was unsure how to proceed, so I stayed in my place. Six large steps and he was standing in front of me wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Edward," he said, looking at me with sincerity. "I need you to know I've never been ashamed of us. Not for one minute. You're the one thing I am most proud of." My arms tangled around his waist, and I buried my head in his shoulder.

He pulled back from me and cupped his hands around my cheeks. His thumbs brushed across my cheekbones and he looked deep into my eyes.

"Edward, I love you, and I want the world to know. I love you." His mouth parted as he pulled me to his full, moist lips. Soft and supple, he lingered for only a few moments.

"Jasper," I smiled. "I love you. I love you. I love you."

This felt right. This was perfect timing.

I pulled him back to my mouth kissing him with languorous, open-mouth kisses, standing in our front yard as the light of the day slipped away. Our neighbors walked by with dogs on leashes, children in wagons, couples hand in hand, as we lost ourselves in each other's embrace.

I'm not sure how long we stood there, silently telling the world we were in love, but when we pulled away from each other, all traces of sunlight were gone, and the moon was high in the sky. A larger piece of Jasper locked into place in my heart.

When we walked in the house, Jasper led me by my hand to the living room. I sat on the couch and he brought me a glass of wine and a piece of lasagna. Searching his iPod, he selected the album "Come Away With Me," plugging it into the Bose dock. He walked over to the fireplace and lit a match, quickly lighting the logs he had obviously prepared earlier in the night.

"I'm gonna grab a quick shower, but we need to talk. I'll be right back. Eat," he said seriously as he leaned over and kissed me before he went to our room. I sat listening to the silky smooth voice of Nora Jones soothe me while I ate, mesmerized by the flames dancing in front of me and the thought of what we just proclaimed to our neighbors.

He surprised me again. I had accused him of being ashamed of us and he made it very clear to me and everyone on our street that he was proud of what we had. He wasn't going to hide it from them. He wanted to share us with them, and with realizing that, something changed. Our kiss had felt different. It felt … secure? Perhaps, like I deserved this happiness. Our relationship felt more real with every person who knew, and now I felt like I had permission to kiss and touch Jasper more openly.

Jasper quickly joined me with damp curls, dressed in plaid navy blue pajama pants. "I owe you some explanations. I think we need to talk about my parents." I nodded as I took a sip of my wine. "When you asked about their visits and sleeping arrangements, I immediate thought about what Rosalie and I talked about. She's not sure how dad will take it. We both think mom will be fine. She's always been more open, but dad's career basically brainwashed him. I freaked out at the thought of them sleeping here."

I reached for his hand as I saw despair written across his features. "Jasper, I know it's going to be hard, but not being truthful is going to be even harder on you. Hiding and sneaking isn't easier. Is it?"

He was thoughtful and quiet for a few minutes, seemingly lost in the flicker of the flames. "How often do I see them? I mean, they don't come here that frequently." Turning toward me he said, "On the outside, my life hasn't really changed. We still live together. I'm still going to graduate in the spring. I'm going to get a job and work on my career. They aren't expecting me to get married or have kids yet. Why does he need to know?" he looked at me with tears in his eyes. "He's going to be disgusted with me."

I pulled him into me, resting his head on my shoulder. "Jasper, if he's disgusted with you, he doesn't know his own son. It's your job to remind him of who you are. You're still the same man. Nothing's changed, just like you said. Your life is still on track. You're doing exactly what they expected you to be doing. But now you are doing what you want to do as well. You're finally admitting who you are, and they have a right to know you."

"It feels so fast, Edward. I'm not sure I'm ready for this yet," he admitted, releasing a heavy breath.

"Well, it has gone pretty fast, and I'm sorry about that. It seems to be fast forward for you, and I'm expecting a lot from you, perhaps too much. But I'm not willing to go back in the closet, Jasper." I smiled down at him, hoping my words didn't sound like a threat or an ultimatum.

"I think we should tell Carlisle and Esme. That's where I'd like to start. I want to do it right away. At least if they know, then I have a supportive family I can go to if everything backfires with my parents. How does that sound to you, Edward?" His mood seemed a bit more relaxed.

"That sounds like a plan. In fact, that's a great plan. I can't wait to tell my parents." I couldn't help but beam at him. He could see how happy this made me, and he gave me his pants-dropping, lazy smile.

"Maybe Rosalie and I can come with you to Forks when you tell your parents, form a united front. We don't even need to tell them we're dating yet, if you'd rather wait. I would just be Edward, your best friend. I can do that for one visit. PFLAG has chapters about an hour away from Forks, so we can tell them about that too," I said, energized by the knowledge that a plan was forming.

"Okay, that works. I think Rose would be willing to do that," he sighed with relief and smiled at me. "Actually, Rose is one of the few people who can get my dad to change his mind on things. I think I have to have her there."

"So, we'll go see my mom and dad this weekend," I said. "I have an idea on how I want to tell them. So you see, I think we should…"

#

I woke up the next morning to the sound of rain outside our window. Last night was our first official night in our bedroom. Jasper was snuggled up next to me, my nose buried in the curls on the back of his head. I leaned over and kissed him on his exposed shoulder.

"Mornin'," his sleepy voice said. "How'd you sleep?"

"Great. I got to sleep next to my boyfriend in our bed. It was really cozy," I said, pulling him into a hug.

He rolled over to face me and leaned in for sweet, chaste kisses. "It's nice to wake up together knowing I don't have to leave the room to get my clothes or get in the shower. I can do it all here. Hmmmmmm," he sighed as a smile spread across his beautiful mouth.

I watched his angelic face resting beside me. His cheekbones and jawline drew my eyes right to his mouth. Always his mouth. It had to be my favorite thing about him, next to his soulful eyes. His long, straight nose, high forehead, and strong chin combined to create the most beautiful man I had ever seen. And to have all of that beauty framed by an abundance of long blond waves that simply begged to be touched, made me feel like the luckiest man alive. He was mine, and today I was going to finally be able to share that with my parents.

Reaching out I traced his eyebrow, the hollow of his cheek, his lips. He smiled under my touch, biting his lower lip and opening his eyes to watch me study is face. My fingers sought out his jaw and the slight cleft in his chin. I traced the shell of his ear and brushed his hair off his forehead. He smiled at me, lifting the corner of his mouth.

"What are you thinking about, baby?" he asked, pushing a piece of my hair behind my ear.

"I'm thinking about how absolutely beautiful you are. Your face is … perfect. I just can't stop looking at you."

He chuckled and his skin flushed slightly. "You're making me self conscious."

"Oh, you choose _now_ to be shy? You don't have a problem posing practically nude in front of a room full of people for an entire day, but laying in bed with your lover looking over your gorgeous features, that makes you shy?"

"Well, I didn't feel like they were scrutinizing me so closely. You're looking at me like you can see into my soul." He looked at me with serious eyes.

"Jasper, I think I can see into your soul. Your eyes tell me so much. I can see how you feel and if you need time to think. I can tell when you want me and when you want to be left alone. I can see that you love me and that you love spending time with me. Your eyes tell me more than your words ever tell me." I needed to say this. I needed him to know.

"Lately, Jasper, I've felt left out, pushed away from the conversation," I said, trying hard to give my serious message in a loving tone. "I've always given you time to work things out. I know you need to think things through, and then you can talk about them. I've given you that time from the beginning. That became a lot harder this last week. I want to be part of your thinking process. I'm a bigger part of your life now and I want a bigger part of your mind." I paused, letting my message wash over him. "Do I sound crazy?"

His brows pulled together, creating three tiny lines. "I didn't realize I was doing that, Edward. I'm so used to working stuff out by myself I guess I didn't think how hard that would be for you. I'm sorry." I rubbed my thumb along the three creases, effectively ironing them away.

"I love you, Jasper. I love the good and the bad. I love the confused and the confident. I love the angry, frustrated, and scared." I cupped his face, tracing his cheekbones with my fingertips. "I want to be there for you through all of this. I want to hold your hand while you talk to your father. I want to hold you close if you're forced to walk away sad. I want to walk with you and hold you up when you need me. The only way I can do all of that is if you let me join you, if you open up. I need this, Jasper." My voice was calm and soft, with no hint of pleading.

"I'll try to give it to you, Edward," he said, as he drew slow circles on the small of my back. "I want you there every step of the way, because you are my truth, Edward." Unshed tears shone in his eyes and I kissed them away. "I love you."

"In one short week, you have changed my entire life. You have meant the world to me for years, Jasper, but this week you became my light. You allowed me to see the possibilities of my life with you. I love you, Jasper."

* * *

**Edit: 1/28/12**


	10. Public & Private

**Public & Private**

I was messing with the dial, turning it from left to right, willing a radio station to come in as we drove toward my parents' house in Jasper's beloved truck. I had to admit his vintage truck was a thing of beauty, but I simply wanted to listen to some music, and I couldn't find a thing on the AM or FM dial. Today we were going to tell my parents about us, hopefully giving Jasper the boost in confidence he would need to tell his parents when the time came.

It didn't help my nerves any that the 1955 International R110 just so happened to have no insulation to keep out the engine noise. At least, that's how it sounded now that we were cruising down the Interstate at about seventy miles per hour in his light blue baby. People passed us, staring at the beautiful truck, embarrassed when they were caught. I smiled and nodded, letting them know I understood why they looked at the graceful curves, the classic lines, and the cotton candy color. It really was a thing of beauty. I could see why Jasper scrimped and saved every dime to pay for and eventually restore it in high school. Bonus: we never had to rent a truck to move.

Jasper insisted on driving today, though I'm not sure why. But this was his show, so I relented and pledged to buy a wind generator to offset the carbon footprint we left behind with the exhaust and fumes. I finally gave up on finding a station and turned the radio off.

Pulling off the Interstate, we quickly sped toward my parents' house.

I had called my mom yesterday to tell her my boyfriend was ready to meet them. She invited us for supper, as I assured her something a bit more formal wouldn't be a problem for him. She was excited about meeting my "new love," as she called him.

Love, yes. New, no.

Before long, we were pulling into their driveway.

Nerves were evident by the way my stomach felt, like I had swallowed a handful of Mexican jumping beans. I hopped out of the truck and walked along the side, running my hand along the wooden rails attached to the box of the truck. I didn't fail to notice the subtle grain under my fingertips causing my fingers to travel along the grooves that years of tree growth had created.

That gave me about forty-five more seconds to calm myself before Jasper met me by the taillights and grabbed my hand. My nerves were for him, yet he seemed like the cool, confident one.

"You ready?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and giving my hand a squeeze.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" I grinned. We had a plan for how this would go down. I just hoped it would be received well.

"Come on," he pulled me toward the door. "Let's do this. I'm pumped. Let's go."

So, the guy who was coming out was more confident than the guy who came out four years prior. This didn't seem right, but I wasn't about to argue.

We climbed the stairs and gave each other one last look. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and he pulled me close to him with his hand on my hip. Taking a deep breath, I rang the doorbell.

After a few moments, I heard the heels of my mother's shoes clicking on the marble tile as she walked toward the entryway. Before the door opened, I glanced over at Jasper and he winked at me, causing me to relax and my mouth to breakout into a full smile.

It seemed like the door was opening in slow motion, the hinges creaking as we were quickly assaulted by the smells of dinner. Nearby, I could hear the sound of raindrops cascading down the rain chain and splashing onto the slate slab below.

This was actually going to happen. My parents were going to know about our private life together. It would feel good to bring them back into the circle.

My mom stood in the doorway, greeting us with a sweet smile. "Well, hello boys," she said as her smile morphed into one full of recognition. "It's good to have you here. Why don't you come in and get comfortable."

We stepped into the foyer and took off our shoes and jackets before we heard my father.

"Are they here, Esme? Did I hear the doorbell?" he asked, hurrying toward the door, rubbing his palms together in excitement.

"Edward's here, Carlisle." She winked as she turned to face him.

"Oh … Edward. Jasper?" he questioned before changing into his professional tone. "I mean, Jasper. Good to see you." He reached out and slapped Jasper's left shoulder before walking past him and opening the imposing wooden door. He peered outside into the dimming light, looking left and then right before closing the door behind him with a loud click. "I thought we were going to meet your boyfriend, Edward," he looked at me with curiosity. "Did he get delayed? Will he be able to find the house?" he looked confused, utterly bewildered by this point.

"Carlisle, why don't we make our way into the family room? The wine is breathing, so let's head in there and do the same," my mother grabbed his hand and led him away from the front door, but not before he reached back and turned on the outdoor light and peered through the window.

My father poured each of us a glass of red wine, which I took a large sip of before sitting next to Jasper on the cream, leather loveseat. My mother sat in a brown leather wing chair next to me and softly patted my hand which sat on the armrest. I smiled at her before we both looked back at my father. He looked thoroughly mystified.

My father was a man who exuded confidence and astuteness at all times, but at that moment he was pacing the room, looking as if he was contemplating going back to the entryway, perhaps readying a search party.

Jasper made his move, just as my father's wine glass left his lips and we heard him take a noisy gulp. "Carlisle?"

My father stopped pacing and looked at Jasper. Jasper motioned to the matching chair beside my mother, hoping my father would sit. He contemplated the brown leather for a moment before sitting, crossing his legs and leaning back into the cushion, trying to relax but it seemed he was having great difficulty.

Jasper faced my parents and took my hand in his. His right arm snaked around my shoulders before he rested his palm on my neck, fingers below my ear. His thumb slowly stroked my sensitive skin, causing goose flesh to run down my arms. I glanced over at him to see a serious expression wash over his face.

"Carlisle. Esme. You've known me for seven years and you've been like second parents to me. In fact, many times you were there when my own parents weren't. So the word 'second' doesn't really fit. You are my family. You have a wonderful son, and Edward is my best friend. He's been there with me through … everything. I don't know how I would have lived without him."

My mother's eyes were warm as she looked between us and my father, gauging whether understanding had come over him yet. My father was still perplexed but by this point was listening intently to what Jasper was saying. Dad's eyes never left Jasper as he spoke, his right thumb brushing the soft leather of his chair.

My hand slid onto Jasper's knee as I looked over and met his again. The corners of his mouth curved up into his soft, closed mouth smile causing his dimples to frame his full lips. Creases formed at the outside corners of his eyes and I could feel my cheeks rise in response. I lost myself in him for a few moments before being brought back by the sound of my father's quick breath being taken in.

Jasper's eyes left mine and he continued. "I've done a lot of soul searching in the last few months, and I've come to a new realization about myself I want to share with you." The room was silent aside from the quiet trickle of a small water fountain in the corner of the room.

He leaned his body into mine before saying, "I'm gay, and Edward and I recently started dating." His lips pressed into the flesh of my heated cheek. Relief spread through me, the Mexican jumping beans stilled, giving my stomach peace.

My mother's smile overtook her face as a tear rolled down her cheek. She started to laugh, sweet and melodic, her face lighting up the room. She stood up and pulled us into a warm three-person hug and kissed us both on the cheek. "Oh, boys," she said with affection. "I'm so happy."

Seeing that my father remained seated and anxious, she reached over to him and took his hand in hers, calming him with her touch. His face was blank for a beat, as he was processing the new information and the scene before him. As soon as comprehension took him, relief washed over his face and he chortled.

He quickly held up a finger and raced out of the room, turning off the outdoor light, only to return a second later. "I see now. So, you brought your boyfriend over to meet us. It's good to meet you, Jasper," he playfully held out his hand in mock introduction. "Edward hasn't told us anything about you, but it's sure nice to meet you," he winked and waited for Jasper to catch up.

Jasper looked at me as if my father had fallen off his rocker. He took his offered hand to shake and smirked. "Well, sir, I do hope I can remedy that and get to know you folks," his sarcasm now evident in his voice. My father pulled him into a warm hug before drawing me into their embrace.

"My goodness, Edward. I thought it was strange that you brought Jasper over on the night we were going to meet your new boyfriend," he admitted. "Something about that didn't seem right, but this," he gestured at the two of us with open, up turned hands, "this is very right." He reached over and tucked my mother under his arm, looking at her expectantly.

"Edward," my mother smiled, "I know how long you've wanted this, and I know you never thought this would happen." She reached up to wipe away a tear. "As a mother, this makes me … so happy … I can hardly tell you. And Jasper, I am so proud of you for allowing yourself to search your soul to answer all your questions. I'm sure it wasn't easy. But to be honest about this … that's the best gift you can ever give yourself." She reached for a tissue and dabbed at her cheeks, being careful not to ruin her makeup.

"The best part in all of this is that you found each other. You've always had each other, but now…" She was overcome with emotion, jumping to her feet and pulling us back up into another group hug. My father hovered behind her for a moment before he wrapped his arms around all three of us, kissing us each on whatever exposed skin he could reach.

Just then we heard the timer go off in the kitchen and Jasper and I made our way into the dining room as instructed. He gently placed his hand on my neck, rubbing soft figure eights behind my ear. He leaned over and whispered, "That was much easier than I expected," before kissing my earlobe.

I pressed my lips to his, feeling him smile against my mouth before I deepened the kiss, allowing our tongues to briefly touch before pulling away.

I felt eyes on me and turned to see my mom and dad paused in the doorway with steaming bowls of food in their arms and smiles on their faces. We'd already been caught kissing so I decided to go back in and kiss him again. He hesitated for only a moment before he slipped his tongue between my lips to taste my mouth. He whispered, "Yum" against me, so softly only I could hear.

Just then my father cleared his throat and set the food down at the table. He smiled, gesturing for us to sit down.

My mother had set the table so that Jasper and I were seated on the same side. I silently thanked her as I slipped into my chair, reaching for Jasper's hand. I wanted to hold his hand throughout our entire meal. We tried to, but one of us would always need to pull away for a few moments to use our knife or pass a dish around the table. Tired of blindly searching for Jasper's hand under the table, I pulled our entwined fingers out and set them on top, in between our plates. My mother and father each took a quick glance at our hands before turning back to their food and smiling to themselves.

I don't remember what we ate, some sort of chicken dish, and I'm sure there were vegetables and fruit on the table too. That didn't really register, but I do remember the conversation and the way I felt inside.

As we ate and continued to drink several bottles of wine, we talked about our childhood and how close Jasper and I had always been. Our friendship was quick to form and the devotion and constancy we felt toward each other was very evident to my parents. We spent most of our free time together, especially after Jasper's father had hit him. If we weren't together, we were often online chatting or on the phone.

"I remember when we went to Italy for the summer," my mother recalled with a sly smile on her face. "I think you were about seventeen at the time. How long were we gone?" It wasn't really a question. "About a month I think? Edward was moody and introspective as we traveled through the piazzas of Rome. Even the beauty of the fountains and the sound of the water couldn't pull him from his brooding mood."

I winced at the memory. I had always regretted not taking advantage of my time in Rome, as I should have. Photographs of me in front of fountains and famous buildings all reflect a scowling face. If you didn't know better, you'd think I was squinting from the bright sun, but it wasn't that at all.

"I think we were about five days into our trip," she continued, "and we were sitting at the Trevi fountain. I found Edward looking at the sculpture and then drawing. I stood behind him to see what part of the complicated statuary he was drawing." She looked at Jasper. "I looked down to his sketchbook to see your face, Jasper. He was drawing you while seated on the edge of one of the most beautiful fountains in the world. That was the day I knew Edward was in love with you." She smiled at Jasper and then looked at me to gauge my reaction. I gave her a half smile and looked down at our clasped hands.

"You didn't notice me behind you, Edward, so I moved, trying to give you the privacy you deserved. I had suspected you were gay prior to that day, but that's when my suspicions were confirmed. I knew you'd come to us when you were ready." My mom looked to my father, who nodded and smiled.

"That night," my father continued the story, after finishing his glass of wine, "your mom and I talked. None of it was a surprise to either of us, but your moodiness on our trip suddenly made sense. I told you to call Jasper that night. You were surprised, do you remember?"

"I do. Out of the blue, it seemed, you told me to call him. I think we talked for nearly an hour," I said, remembering how relieved I felt to suddenly hear his voice again, how soothed I felt.

Jasper squeezed my hand and said, "That was a horrible summer for me. The morning you called me was the first time I had smiled in days. And then you called me every few days after that, thank God." He looked slightly embarrassed about the memory. "That was the summer I begged for a cell phone so I wouldn't miss your calls. I remember my mom being worried that the only time I seemed happy was when I talked to you," he said as he absent-mindedly reached over and raked his fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck.

"There were signs I was gay that I simply ignored," Jasper admitted. "Being into a guy was just not on my radar. It was an impossibility, especially in my family. The bigotry and hate that permeated my house ensured I'd never entertain ideas about being with another man. It was made very clear that being gay wouldn't be accepted under any circumstances." His face seemed to fall as he thought of his parents.

"Sweetie," my mom said with great concern, "do your parents know yet?"

"No," Jasper said quietly, looking up anxiously. "I know it'll have to come out sooner or later. Edward would rather it be sooner." He looked to me and back to my mom. I felt a pang of guilt as my eyes fell to my lap.

"Edward," my mom scolded and I met her gaze. "This has to be Jasper's decision. He needs to do this on his timetable. You shouldn't be pressuring him into this." I scowled, partly from frustration and partly from shame. "We gave you years to tell us." My face softened and I gave him a guilty smile.

"I know we tried to make it clear to you, in many ways, that we would accept you no matter what, but Jasper hasn't had that benefit." I looked at her in confusion, not understanding her meaning. "Do you think Aro spent all those Saturday nights over here because he enjoyed game night?" She didn't allow an answer. "I invited him over here so you'd have a positive, gay role model and a man you could talk to if you ever felt you needed to."

"I had no idea," I admitted. Aro was a colleague of my father's, a heart surgeon. His influence on my identity as a gay man was monumental and I had always looked up to him. I never spoke with him about my sexuality, but I certainly observed him and listened intently whenever he spoke about his relationships or brought a date.

"I'm terrified of telling my parents, actually," Jasper whispered, "especially my father. But I want to … I need to." He took a deep breath and looked between the three of us.

"My father and I haven't gotten along well for years, but it's gotten better since I moved away. I'm afraid to screw that up, but I want my parents to accept me for who I am. If I never tell them, I won't ever give them a chance to know the real me, and if they don't know the real me, they can't ever truly love me."

He paused, looking down, before sighing. "I deserve to be loved for who I am and being gay is a part of that. But if they can't accept me based only on who I love, then I guess I'll walk away." My heart ached at the thought of him being forced to walk away from his family.

Jasper picked up his dessert fork and twisted it between his thumb and forefinger, getting lost in the motion. Looking up he said, "At least I have you as my family and you're a wonderful family. I have Rosalie, who accepts me. I have friends. I have Edward," he placed his hand between my shoulder blades and rubbed there, heating my skin. I returned the comforting touches by placing my hand on his knee.

My father spoke with confidence and an air of authority. "Jasper, if you'd like, we'll be there for you when you decide to come out, or we'll be a quick phone call or drive away, which ever you'd prefer. Either way, we'll be there. We _will_ support you."

Taking another sip of wine, my father got a glint in his eye I'd only seen a few times. It was only present when he was feeling protective or particularly feisty. It was a look I had come to find great comfort in. "You're a wonderful man, Jasper, and who you decide to fuck doesn't change who you are, whether it's a man or a woman. Your parents may not get that right away, but I'll do everything in my power to help them realize that."

Jasper was shocked at my father's words and demeanor. He looked at me, smirking, before turning his gaze to my mother. Jasper had never seen my father like this and his eyes were huge. My mom was sitting there with a smug, appreciative expression on her face as she looked at my father. She was Mama Bear Esme and my father was Papa Bear, protective and proud of Jasper. We couldn't help ourselves as small snickers escaped our mouths, which turned into full on laughter.

"Didn't expect that sort of thing to come out of my mouth, did you Jasper?" he asked, cocking a brow. "I'm quite protective of those people I love, and I'll go to great lengths to make sure they're safe. You're still the same man you've always been and your parents need to know that. Now, I realize your father, most likely, is not going to take this well. I don't tolerate prejudice, but your father's comes from a place of fear and ignorance that was drilled into him. With your permission, of course, I'll be there to inform him about things and try to show him that this doesn't change who you are."

"Thank you, Carlisle," Jasper said, gratefully. "You don't know how much this means to me. I wanted to come here first because I knew you'd accept me, no matter what. I knew I needed to practice, if you will. I want to tell them in person. This isn't something I can do over the phone, although that might be more prudent," he laughed mirthlessly. "I'm thinking I'll tell them at Thanksgiving when I go home to Forks. That gives me six weeks to prepare how I'm going to do it."

I was surprised to hear he'd decided on a time, surprised … and happy. But I took what my mother said to heart. I knew I'd been over zealous when it came to Jasper coming out, and it wasn't my place to decide when. It was his place. My place was by his side as he did it, and behind him to catch him if he fell.

"Jasper," my mother said as she tucked her caramel colored hair behind her ear, "You let us know what you need from us and we'll be there for you. We'll always be there. Now, you boys go relax in the family room and don't worry about the dishes. Carlisle and I will get those. I'm sure you two would like some time to talk," she said with a knowing smile. "I know we've all had quite a bit to drink, how about you boys spend the night? I really don't want you to drive." We readily agreed.

#

Jasper and I were on the couch watching a movie when my parents joined us. He was leaning against the armrest with his legs stretched out in front of him, while I laid my head in his lap. His fingers were gently combing through my hair, lightly scratching my scalp, and lulling me into a stupor.

We were glad to be staying at my parents' house, both nicely buzzed from the wine. My father sat down on the loveseat with his back against the armrest. My mother nestled between his legs, her head on his chest. The wine was affecting them too. Dad pulled my mom into his body, turning her face toward his and was kissing her. I'd seen my parent's affection toward each other a lot, but the wine had obviously lowered some of their inhibitions since they were basically making out in front of us. I laughed at their public display, drawing my father's attention to what he was doing in front of us. He pulled away and put his focus on the film. My mom giggled.

Jasper started to rub my neck and back. His hands slowly traveled across my shoulder and down the lines of my rib cage. I squirmed a bit as he hit a ticklish spot and he moved his palm toward chest, resting it between my arm and my pectoral muscle. I glanced up at him, and he gave me a smile, the one that so beautifully showcased his dimples. I snuggled closer into him, pulling a throw blanket over me.

Slowly, his thumb started to trace lazy circles around my right nipple, causing it to pebble. He moved his fingers to tease the nub with soft brushes and I lifted my arm slightly to give his hands greater contact. Looking back up at him, I gave him my half smile and saw his eyes growing darker.

I felt myself getting hard, right there in the family room with my mother and father on the loveseat that sat a few feet away. It was strange and exciting, like we were two horny teenagers trying to get away with touching each other, unseen.

I pulled the blanket up further, over Jasper's leg, placing a corner over his groin. I settled my hand on top of him, feeling him grow and harden beneath my palm.

Our eyes were no longer on the television, but fixed on each other. He slipped his hand under the hem of my shirt, sliding it up so he could touch my bare nipple. I nearly groaned at the touch, biting my lip to stop myself. I ran my fingers along his erect length, touching more gently when I reached his head. His eyes rolled back and his mouth opened as my barely-there touches teased him.

Withdrawing my hand, I pushed his forearm down to my waist and announced to my parents that we were going to bed. Absorbed in the movie, my parents mumbled their goodnights as we made our way up to my room.

As soon as we shut the door, we were tearing our clothes off, leaving a trail all the way to the bed. Jasper pulled the comforter down and climbed in, moving to the side so I could join him. Our cocks were both hard, standing proud, begging to be touched. I climbed on top of him, allowing us both to feel some friction as we began to rock our hips against each other. Pushing myself to my forearms, I looked down over our bodies, watching our cocks slide against each other. Jasper held onto my hips, thrusting deeper, increasing the delectable drag with each pump of our hips. A glistening drop of clear liquid gathered on each of our heads, so I reached down and collected the precious fluid with the pad of my thumb, spreading it along Jasper's length. He moaned at my touch as our cocks slid smoothly, magnificently.

Heavy breaths escaped between desperate kisses. Pulling back, I barely let our lips touch, our tongues meeting, circling and tasting before we devoured each other again. I kissed along his jaw to his ear. My nose traced the shell for a slow moment before my tongue copied the motion. He moaned, urging me to trail my tongue down the column of his neck, across his collarbone to his Adam's apple, where I circled my tongue, tasting the saltiness of his skin.

His hands were in my hair, pulling it slightly.

"Fuck, Jas," I hissed. "I fucking like it when you pull my hair." He responded by tugging a bit harder, causing me to hiss again.

I looked up at him and he was smiling at me with that cocky smile that turned me on so much. One hand left my hair and traveled down my chest where he circled my nipple with soft, delicate touches. Then he pinched it hard. I bit my lip, quieting my natural response to the sudden change in sensation, loving every second of it.

Rolling off of him and settling in next to him, both of his hands moved to my nubs, teasing and touching, changing from barely-there to rough touches, disarming me, making me groan loudly.

"Ung, Edward. I love to hear you. I love the sounds I get you to make."

"I like how you get me to make them," I growled.

Our hands caressed each other's chests and backs, feather soft and long, firm stokes as our lips met and the tips of our tongues circled and teased.

Jasper licked down the center of my chest as he trailed his fingertips down my sides, circling his tongue around my navel. He placed wet, open-mouthed kisses down my happy trail before taking my hard cock into his hot mouth.

He teased my head, tasting around me, dipping his tongue into my slit before he took me deep. I felt him slide his tongue firmly on the underside of my cock, causing me to moan again.

I wanted him to feel as good as I was feeling, so I pulled him back up to the head of the bed, causing him to look at me quizzically.

"I want to taste you too, Jas," I said and I shifted, turning my body. He looked at me with understanding before we both took each other's engorged cocks into our mouths.

I took him deep down my throat so my nose was buried in his balls. I breathed deeply, taking in Jasper's concentrated scent. My cock twitched in his mouth, as I smelled him, filling me with lust. There was nothing like Jasper's flavor on my tongue and his scent in my nose. It was almost too much.

He sucked me, bobbing up and down along my shaft while I continued to suck him down in long, deep strokes. He tried to take me as deeply as I had taken him, but he gagged and started to laugh. I laughed around him before pulling away, "It takes some practice, you'll eventually get it," I said.

He chuckled and started to run his tongue around my head. I imitated his movements before showing him what I liked by performing the pleasing motions on his cock. He copied my technique and then showed me more of what he liked. Together we were teaching, sharing our preferences, and being able to practice on each other.

I held the base of his cock with one hand and gently tugged his balls with the other as I sucked around him, swirling my tongue around his head. I took him deep and hummed, pressing the tip of my tongue along the underside of his cock.

He took me as deeply as he could, getting better with each successive try, even swallowing around me. He ran his tongue along my frenulum, gently rolling my balls with a hand. I felt myself getting closer.

Our breathing was becoming more erratic and our hips started to thrust forward, pushing our cocks into each other's mouths. I was having a hard time controlling my voice, moaning but as softly and I could manage. Jasper let out gasping breaths, interrupted by a groan every so often.

I reached between Jasper's legs with one hand and grabbed his ass, pulling his cock further into me. I wanted him to fuck my mouth, hard. I took the base of his length in my other hand and started to stroke him, increasing the speed to match the movement of his hips. I could tell he was close. I focused all of my energy on him, ignoring my own release. His mouth stilled around me as he lost himself in my touches.

He rolled onto his back, eyes closed, hips thrusting, lost in the moment. He was trying to hold back, biting his bottom lip.

"Let go, love. Don't be shy," I said.

As if he only needed my word, he let go, throwing his head back, grasping the sheets as I continued to suck and pump him. He gave himself over to his animal instincts, pushing hard into my mouth and moaning loudly with every thrust of his hips. I increased the speed of my hand and he quickly came, pumping milky nectar down my throat in several long spurts. He shuddered and writhed under me for a few minutes before I felt him begin to relax.

He rolled me onto my back, repositioning his body near the foot of the bed between my legs, and pulled me back into his mouth. He worked his hand up and down my cock as he swirled his tongue around my head, fluttering it on my sweet spot. Now that I could fully focus on his ministrations, I gave into the sensations.

He tugged and pulled at my nipples as he sucked and pumped my length. I gazed down at him and saw him looking at me through his lashes. He took me deeper in his mouth than he had before, swallowing around me as he sped up his hand. I couldn't keep quiet any longer. I released a loud groan, trying to stifle the sound with my hand. I felt a tightening as I quickly came in his mouth, pulsing inside his lips before I slowly descended from my high.

We were not quiet. I didn't know if my parents had heard us but I was still too drunk and in such a state of bliss that I didn't care. Jasper and I crawled next to each other and covered up.

"Edward?" he said.

"Jasper?"

"That was very … educational," he laughed.

"It certainly was. And enjoyable." I said.

"Oh, definitely enjoyable. Enjoyable indeed." He leaned over and kissed me deeply, allowing each of us to taste ourselves, mixing our flavors together.

Sleep took us quickly.

#

In the morning after breakfast, my mother pulled me aside to talk to me while my father spoke with Jasper. I was nervous, at first, but quickly relaxed when she started to talk.

"I can see how happy you are, Edward," she said, sipping her coffee. "I see how deeply Jasper feels for you too. The way he looks at you. The way he touches you. He genuinely cares for you as his lover. I can really see it." She reached for my hand and squeezed it. "Seeing you together has helped me relax too. I'm not as fearful as when you told me about your boyfriend being recently out. I can see this isn't experimentation on his part, like I'd feared. This is the real thing." She pulled me in and kissed me on the cheek and temple.

"I've never felt this comfortable with someone so quickly," I admitted. "I know we've been best friends for years, but even so, we just fit together somehow. We've already said 'I love you.'"

"Well, I'm not surprised by that, sweetie."

"Did you have any idea I was going to bring Jasper over?" Her reaction was so quick last night I had to know.

"I really had no idea, Edward. Jasper's always been close to you, but he's also been an enigma to me. I knew he loved you as a friend, but I never got the feeling he was gay," she said.

"You didn't suspect anything when we were here for brunch last week?" I asked.

"No. Not a thing, why?" She looked at me with suspicion.

"No reason," I raised my eyebrows. "Just curious. Seriously, just curious."

On our drive home, I found out Dad and Jasper talked more about coming out to his father. He wanted Jasper to know he would literally be there for him, if desired. Jasper was thankful for my father's help and appreciated the respect my father gave him. That respect meant more to him than he could express to me, but I could see it in his eyes.

Jasper and I walked away from our visit feeling ecstatic. I no longer felt like I was keeping secrets, and Jasper now had the support of more people. It was great to have this feeling of acceptance and love from my parents. I'm sure the awesome orgasms we had didn't hurt either.

#

Sunday afternoon Jasper and I headed to UW's campus to work in the art studio a bit. We kept our larger pieces on campus so we didn't risk damaging them. I was painting a large canvas that contained several of the hidden messages we wanted to impart at our show. Jasper was working on a five-foot high, 3-D, foam sculpture of the letter "E". It was the same "E" that he designed and had hung in our studio at home. He was going to be making a "J" too, so when people walked in the door at our art show, they would be the first thing people saw.

A few students worked in the studio along side us; some of them we knew and others must have been freshman, because they weren't familiar at all. People worked on sculptures, charcoal drawings, paintings, and collages. Someone's iPod played softly in the background while we focused on our respective projects.

Jasper and I worked near the tall windows that overlooked a lush courtyard. We had fought to get these workspaces since we were freshman. The room was expansive, supplies lining the walls on grey, metal shelves. The worn concrete floor was splattered with layers of paint and dye, some, no doubt, dating back to the day students first set foot in the space. The exposed walls were each painted a different color, giving you the opportunity to draw inspiration from them. If you wanted tranquility you had blue, passion you had red, and angst you had black. I had used those walls many times in my hours spent here. Today I was inspired by red.

I watched as Jasper expertly sliced away small pieces of white foam to create smoothed curves and sharp edges on the "E". Every so often he would use a broom to sweep up the waste material. Each time he did this I stopped painting, putting my palate and brush down, and watched. He would bend from the waist to gather the scraps in a black metal dust pan before walking over to empty it in the trash, while trying to brush debris off his hands. I watched his movements, the way his muscles would flex and release. When he bent over, his jeans rode down in the back, exposing the dimples above his ass. The muscles in his back and chest were easily defined through his tight, red T-shirt. Each time he returned from the trash he would stretch his arms above his head, exposing the line of dark blond hair below his navel. My eyes would travel down that line to where it disappeared into the waistband of his orange boxers. Every time, I felt my cock start to hardened. It was a slow torture, but one I was glad to endure.

We had been working for hours when I decided to get up and move around a bit. My back was killing me and I was getting a bit hungry, so I headed over to my messenger bag and grabbed a green apple. When I took a bite, Jasper looked over at me and licked his lips.

"Want a bite?" I asked. He nodded as his stomach growled.

I walked over to his workspace and held the apple to his mouth since his hands were covered in styrofoam. He looked at me with intensity as he took a bite. I watched as his lips hugged the green skin, moving closer together and dragging around the sour fruit. When I pulled the apple away I saw juice running from the corner of his mouth down toward his chin.

Without thinking I leaned in and ran my tongue up his chin to his lips, catching the drop before it fell on his shirt. He opened his mouth, meeting my advance. We moved our tongues in slow circles against each other, tasting the tartness of the apple.

"Fucking fags!" a small, dark haired boy hollered from across the room as he threw down the pastels he was working with, breaking them into pieces.

My arm dropped to my side as the apple slipped from my fingers and rolled across the floor, stopped by the toe of Jasper's shoe. I was furious. I had never been harassed in the art studio. This place was practically sacred to me, a place where there was no need to hide, and this little fuck wasn't about to change that.

I watched as Jasper's face flushed and he retreated slightly behind his sculpture. He glanced at me, fear evident on his face which further infuriated me. I turned to face the little boy, anger burning in my eyes. "Do you have a problem?" I asked as he threw me a look that said "duh." He took a step toward me, unveiling his threat. I wouldn't back down. I took three steps toward him, so I was standing in front of Jasper's sculpture. "I wouldn't insult you if you were kissing your girlfriend in here."

"Dude, I don't want to see that shit," the kid said as he threw his hands up and covered his eyes with parted fingers and looked at me through the spaces.

"Then I suggest you look the other way, because if I choose to kiss my boyfriend when I'm taking a break, then I will, whether you're in here or not." I walked back behind the sculpture and pulled Jasper toward me, seeing a look of fear in his eye. I released him, not wanting to push him too far, but I was determined not to let this kid affect how I interacted with Jasper in the studio. "Believe me, you'd better get used to it, especially if you're going to work in here. Open your mind!" Jasper looked at the dark haired boy for a moment before he turned back to me. He must have seen my resolve because he leaned into me, placing a soft kiss on my lips. He quickly busied himself with his work then.

He didn't pull away, I told myself. It's not like what he did after our photo shoot. He made eye contact with the kid and then kissed me. It wasn't a kiss he would normally give me, but it was a kiss nonetheless. Progress.

#

That evening as we headed across the deserted and darkened campus toward Jasper's truck, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder pulling me in close. "You know Edward," he whispered into my ear, "what you said back there to that kid. Thanks. I saw your face and knew I couldn't let him dictate what I could and couldn't do in there. Thanks for saying something and for … I don't know. Just thanks." I felt his lips brush my ear lobe.

We continued walking on the lamp-lit sidewalk past buildings, trees, and statues. Soon, Jasper grabbed my hand and led me off the path. He pushed me up against the dark, inner corner of a building we were passing and pressed his body into mine. Cupping my face in his hands he rested his forehead against mine, our noses touching. "Do you know how much that turned me on … what you did back there?" he asked, his voice gravely.

"No. It turned you on?" I looked at him with furrowed brows.

"If that little shit hadn't stayed in there I would've thrown you on one of the studio tables and shown you. I want you so bad, right now." He pressed his hips into me, and I _felt_ how much he wanted me.

I traced his upper lip with my tongue as he pulled my bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it gently. I gasped into his mouth. He tilted his head, capturing my lips in languid kisses. Our tongues entwined, with Jasper dominating my mouth. I followed his lead, willingly going where he wanted me.

His hand snaked down the center of my chest and quickly plunged into my jeans, capturing my throbbing cock in his fingers. Waves of electricity radiated out from my center, down my thighs and up my torso. He started massaging me as he thrust his hips against mine. I reached toward him, ready to return the favor when he stopped me.

"No! Hands on the building," his voice was low and demanding. I quickly complied.

In a flash, my pants were unfastened and he was kneeling in front of me, taking me between his parted lips. He pulled me into his mouth, running his soft lips and hot tongue up and down my cock. I kept my hands at my sides, resting them on the cold, damp brick as I threw my head back, hitting my skull on the hard surface. I couldn't keep from moaning loudly.

A bright light was shining in my face and I heard a voice.

"Turn and face the building with your hands up," a loud voice commanded. Great! Campus Police.

Fuck!

I felt Jasper quickly shove my softening cock in my boxers as he buttoned my pants and pulled the hem of my shirt over my still opened zipper. He slowly stood up and we both followed orders.

I felt hands on my body, frisking me up and down. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jasper was getting similar treatment.

"What are you two doing here?" the deep voice asked.

"We were talking," I said.

"It didn't look like talking."

"Oh, what did it look like?" I asked, innocently.

"I'm not sure, but talking … no, I don't think so," he laughed. "Turn around slowly."

We both turned around, arms still in the air in surrender.

"You know I could haul you in for indecent exposure," he threatened.

Jasper spoke up. "Who's indecent?" He looked back and forth at our bodies before facing the officer again. "It doesn't look like either one of us is indecent. I'm not sure what you think you saw, but we were simply talking here when I dropped my cell phone in the grass. I was kneeling down to retrieve it when you came over here and made assumptions about our activities. Now tell me, who's indecent?" He looked at the cop in challenge.

"I … I … thought I saw … I guess … sorry gentlemen," he stammered, trying to find words. Taking a deep breath and rubbing his dirty palm over his forehead he said, "You can go. I'm sorry to have implied any wrongdoing. Have a good night."

Jasper and I picked our bags up off the ground and started to walk toward his truck. As soon as we rounded the corner and were out of sight be both took off running.

"Oh my God. I thought for sure we were busted," I said, panic evident in my voice.

"Fuck, Edward. They couldn't do shit. That asshole didn't see a thing except for you leaning against a building and me kneeling in front of you." His confidence didn't rub off on me.

I stopped, hands on my knees as I laughed and tried to catch my breath. Jasper followed suit.

"Shit. I've never had my cock go limp so fast," I laughed, reaching down and zipping my pants. "Fuck. I can't believe that just happened." Pulling ourselves up, we walked to the truck, breaths returning to normal. I had never been so happy to see the the curves of the International.

For as much as I had fought over the last week to be out and public, there was nothing more that I wanted at that moment than to be home. I wanted truly hidden messages and private moments. I wanted to climb into Jasper's baby blue beauty and drive away to be alone with him, revealing nothing to the world.

Sitting down in the cab of his truck I reached for the radio dial. He started the engine and static filled the air for a moment before I turned the dial to the right a quarter turn. Music started to pump through the ancient speakers, whispering exactly what I knew. This would always be a place where it would be safe to be in his arms.

_I like where we are  
__When we drive in your car  
__I like where we are, here_

Turning my head, I looked at my love. He met my gaze and sat there watching me as calm understanding filled me. He reached for my hand and smiled while we listened to the lyrics.

_'Cause our lips can touch  
__And our cheeks can brush  
__Our lips can touch, here*_

I leaned across the seat, pulling his mouth to mine for a soft, slow kiss, without interruption.

"Let's go home where we can do whatever we please," he said, settling in his seat.

"Home," I agreed.

Just as we were about to pull away we saw a note that had been placed under the windshield wiper with Jasper's name on it. Opening it, we saw only two words, but they were ominous.

_I KNOW._

* * *

**Edit: 1/28/12**

*Here (in your arms) by hellogoodbye


	11. Notes & Notions

**Notes & Notions**

_Jasper_

I saw my name scrawled in messy script and underlined on the folded sheet sitting on my windshield. Rolling down my window, I reached outside my truck to grab the damp piece of spiral bound paper. I recognized the handwriting. This wasn't the first note I'd received from this secret messenger.

Unfolding the ruled paper, I saw two words.

_I KNOW._

Edward looked over and pulled it from my grasp.

"What the hell is this shit?" he asked, anger straining his voice.

I tried to appear confused, so Edward would think this was my first note. The last thing I needed was for him to worry about this.

"I don't know," I said, raising the pitch of my voice near the end.

"'I KNOW.' Know what? Who the hell would write that and leave it on your truck?" He was pissed. As if enough hadn't already happened that evening. This was very poor timing, to say the least.

"I'm not sure. Probably nothing. Don't worry about it. Let's just go home," I said, with nonchalance, as I drove out of the parking lot.

I felt Edward's eyes boring into the side of my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a brow cocked in doubt as he shifted his focus between the note in his hands and my face. The fingers on his left hand curled around the paper, knuckles turning white from the pressure, wrinkling the fibers, and sending bits of spiral bound remnants tumbling onto the seat.

"What?" I threw my right hand in the air. "I'm sure it's nothing. Some jerk just trying to get a rise out of me. Someone who probably thinks I'm trying to hide that I'm gay." Even I didn't believe my argument.

"Maybe," he sounded skeptical. "But I don't like it. Maybe we should report it to campus police."

"Right, like we haven't had enough of them tonight. Don't worry. Now can we drop it?" I didn't want to raise his suspicions, but the last thing I wanted to do at that moment was keep talking about the damn note. I took it from his hand and set it between us on the bench seat, watching as he opened and closed his fingers, trying to relax them.

We drove the rest of the way home listening to the crackling radio. Edward's elbow rested on the window ledge, his chin on his fist, as he looked out the passenger window. In the reflection I could see the crease in between his brows that meant he was either angry or deep in thought.

I didn't like seeing him like that, but I already knew what the message meant. I still didn't want to talk, or even think, about it.

Pulling into the garage, I shut the truck off before stuffing the note in my back pocket. I wasn't going to let this ridiculous message ruin the rest of my weekend.

"Are you done with your homework?" I asked. I had a few things I needed to do for Advanced Drawing, but it could wait until tomorrow. Right now I just wanted to be with Edward, but that fucking note seemed to be pressing down on me.

"Nope. I'm done for the night. We should eat. I'll make a pizza, okay?" Edward headed toward the freezer and pulled out two pies to choose from.

"Mushroom and Sausage," I said looking at my choices before heading to our room. The house was silent, but a small buzz of tension could be felt as we each tried to process our thoughts.

I opened the top drawer of the dresser and felt around for a small maple box hidden in the back. I slowly opened the top, making sure the hinge remained silent. Inside, I saw a folded piece of notebook paper that I pulled out and flattened. Retrieving the note from my back pocket, I compared the handwriting. It was definitely the same person that wrote both notes.

I received the first note a few days after I came out to our friends. I found the ragged edges taped to my motorcycle's side mirror. We no longer lived in the world of notes, with text messages and the like—oh, and the fact that we weren't in high school anymore—but I didn't think much of it until I had opened it. Written in all capital letters was an internet link. I didn't know what it was because it had been disguised by using a shortened URL.

As soon as I got home to the deserted house that day, I made my way to my room and turned on my clunky computer. When the page loaded, I saw an image of myself sitting on a dismal looking futon in a stark white room. I was wearing a dark green T-shirt with a light green tree silk-screened on the front. My well-worn jeans were torn on my right knee and my red boxers were peeking out of the waistband. Seated next to me was James. His long, dirty-blond hair was pulled into a ponytail and he was wearing all black, from head to toe.

I hadn't seen this yet. In fact, I'd made a point to not watch it. Just looking at the still image on the screen before me made me feel ill.

A hot, sick wave of nausea rushed through me, starting in my stomach and quickly overwhelmed my entire body. I broke into a cold sweat and started to shake as I made my way toward the bathroom. I hoped I could make it, not wanting to lose it in the living room.

Rushing as fast as I could, I covered my mouth with my hand in a vain attempt at keeping my churning stomach in check. I leaned my head on the cool toilet seat and retched. Over and over my stomach heaved, attempting to purge the horrible shame and guilt from me.

It didn't work.

The crushing sense of embarrassment wouldn't leave me. I was humiliated, mortified people could watch that at any time. People actually asked for me to perform for them. They wanted to watch me get fucked by a man who I shared nothing with. I didn't love James, and what we did was ugly.

That man on the computer screen wasn't me.

That wasn't _me!_

How much did they show? What did they capture? Did I want to know?

Rinsing my mouth out, I looked at the man in the mirror.

_Who are you?_

The blue eyes that stared back at me were cold and distant … frightened. Running my hands under the cold water, I combed them through my curls, pushing the waves off my forehead. My brow furrowed, leaving a crease between.

I was usually a confident man who knew what I wanted, and if I didn't know, I withdrew until I found answers. I didn't have to step back often, because my gut and instincts were my best tools, informing me more than my head. They usually worked for me, but sometimes my sixth sense was useless.

So when I lost everything, lost all of my financial aid, I'd felt hopeless. I wouldn't be able to finish school.

My gut failed me.

My instinct couldn't get me out of this.

My charm wouldn't even help.

I had to use my head for this, but Edward was the thinker, not me. He analyzed things—to death at times—always finding an answer. But I couldn't talk to him about money. My damn ego got in the way of that. So when Mike Newton told me about the video he made, I bit.

Easy money, was what I thought. Masturbate in front of a camera. I had been masturbating daily for months since Jessica no longer did anything for me. Whenever we were together, I felt dead. She would kiss me and touch me, but my cock would lay there, dead to the world. It wasn't until she got her lips around it that I would finally start to feel myself swell, but I could never get completely hard. The friction was the only thing that kept me erect, but barely. I didn't know what to make of it, but it freaked me out, so I hadn't allowed myself to ponder it too long.

When I got to the shoot location for _Broke Straight Dudes_, I wasn't surprised to see it was just an apartment on a nondescript street. I had actually expected a cheap hotel room. I sat on the couch, did my thing, and walked away $200 richer. It took all of thirty minutes from the time I walked in until the time I left will crisp bills adorning my wallet. Thirty minutes. I had sat nude in the art studio for days at a time with twenty-five sets of eyes on me, and I didn't get paid as much. I really didn't see the harm.

The harm wouldn't come until later. A week later, in fact. _Broke Straight Dudes_ wanted me back, so I went. That's when I met James. The porn playing in the room to get us "good and hard" was two women going at it. Every guy's fantasy, right? Well, apparently not mine. It wasn't until James pulled his cock out of his underwear that I got hard, and it wasn't even a nice looking cock. I hadn't been_ that_ hard in months, but I dismissed it.

_Who are you?_

I knew who I was now. I understood now why James affected me like that. It wasn't the strangeness of the situation that kept me limp, like I initially tried to tell myself. Only looking at James made the difference in the blood flow to my cock, not the girl-on-girl porn. My whole world collapsed in on itself that afternoon.

I remember wandering around campus in a daze. I had no destination.

I just walked.

And then I sat.

I leaned against a tree running my fingers through the grass beside me. The feel of the ridged, hairy blades rubbing against my skin soothed me. I watched people walking past, men and women. I wasn't looking for anything. I didn't try to answer the questions running through my head.

I just watched and allowed the questions to sit there.

Two men walked along the path near me before cutting across the lawn and sitting behind a tree, out of sight from most people, but not from me. They were both beautiful, lean and lithe, with heads full of dark black hair. Their skin was tanned, but not from the sun. They looked to be of Hispanic decent, mysterious and exotic.

I watched as the taller man leaned in to kiss the shorter, their lips meeting in a soft embrace before their tongues darted out to taste each other. They reached out, touching and caressing with hands on top of fabric. I felt my pants tighten. When I reached down to adjust myself, my hand lingered, slowing stoking the bulge in my pants. Their hands disappeared under shirts and their kisses deepened.

I must have made a noise, because their heads snapped in my direction. I'd been caught, but they didn't seem to mind. They smiled at me and went back to their sensuous kisses and eager touches. I continued to watch, slowly stroking myself, unwilling to tear my eyes away from the beautiful boys making out in front of me.

When I got home that evening, Edward was walking through the house in his underwear. That man didn't just wear underwear. No, he wears _underwear_. On that particular night he wore a blood red pair that had a skull and crossbones right on his basket, drawing my eye to the one place I was trying to avoid. I could see the outline of his cock, resting in the contoured pouch. I tried to look away, but I couldn't. The waistband sat low and when he turned around, his perfect ass filled every inch of fabric as it stretched across muscle.

Enter the underwear fantasies.

Each day, I would try to get a glimpse of what type of underwear he was wearing. It wasn't always easy since his shower was attached to his bedroom, but I would often make up an excuse to ask him a question as he was getting dressed. Some days it would be boxers, worn low and loose. Other days, they were tight and ass hugging briefs or boxer briefs. Green. Blue. Orange. A few days, I would walk into see him zipping up his jeans with his dark nest of fur exposed. One of my favorite pair happened to be low-rise briefs in black and white with an optical illusion on the fabric. I literally couldn't pull my eyes away from those because I was trying to make sense of the design.

Jessica was out of my life by that time. She did nothing for me sexually, and intellectually she and I never fit. I was glad to be rid of her. I felt like a weight, or perhaps a monkey, had been lifted off of my back. But I was still confused, and I'm sure that was evident at home. I was quiet, withdrawn. Edward tried to pull me out of my funk, but apart from the underwear-seeking missions, I avoided him entirely.

Insomnia was starting to rule me. I was having strange dreams where I was lost; sometimes in a maze, or once it was a large office building with stark, white walls, where the hallways seemed to never end. The one that scared me the most was when I found myself running through a corn field, green and lush, where I could barely see the sky because the corn silk burst forth blocking out the blue, the clouds, the air. I started to look like hell, purple bags forming on the pasty skin under my eyes.

Drawing was the only thing that soothed me. I would lie in my uninviting bed and draw the most inviting man I had ever known. I would draw his lips, his eyes, anything I could recall. I even drew his hips with those skull and crossbones underwear seated just below the bones softly jutting out below his pale skin. Every part of Edward appealed to me. It was him I wanted to hold. But he was my friend. I didn't want to risk that. He meant more to me than my aching cock.

School had just started again, so I threw myself into my studies and art. Somehow, though, I needed to make more money. That's when I received another phone call. Jake told me how popular I was on their website; people wanted more. We talked about money over the phone before I would agree to come back, but I agreed, and ended up with James again, this time putting my mouth on his crooked cock.

Walking back to my bedroom I looked at the still shot from the video again. I didn't need to see it. I remembered what happened. I remembered touching myself, touching James, sucking James, bending over for James, losing myself in the feeling of James filling me up, feeling him come on me, cleaning up, getting dressed, and leaving with $1500 in my pocket. That was what happened. That's all.

But that's not all.

Edward in his towel. Wet hair, drips of crystal clear water falling down his back, disappearing beneath white, loopy fabric. Towel slung so low I could see his mound of dark hair, the division of his ass. I could feel the division in me. I was no longer Jasper, straight guy … but I had known that for a while. I wanted him. I didn't know if I could resist much longer. I was undecided on what path I should take. Risk it all and tell Edward? Find someone else I could be with? Maybe I should've been alone? All of that ran through my mind. There was only one thing that I wanted. Within a week, I was ready to take it.

_Meet me B&O 6:30. We need to talk._

I hit send before I could think twice.

_C U then._

I told him everything. It took me forever, but he waited, as he always had, giving me the time I needed to work up to it. He listened to my story and didn't judge me. He answered my questions with honesty. I felt the tightening in my chest that I'd come to see as normal, disappear. It was gone because I told Edward. I felt free.

And then I slid in next to him, taking his beautifully pale face into my hands, touching is warm skin. I tasted his lower lip as my tongue brushed across the delicate skin. His kiss tasted better than any kiss I'd had. Sweet and nutty, pure, unadulterated Edward, with a hint of hazelnut coffee.

That was the first time I'd kissed a man. It was so different … so much better than kissing a woman. His mouth felt like it fit mine. I wasn't afraid of hurting him or overwhelming him. I didn't need to be delicate.

When I deepened the kiss, I felt the scruff of his face rub exquisitely against my skin. It was an explosion of sensation, running deep within and throughout my body. Electricity. I needed to feel more so I ran my lips along his jaw, feeling his stubble tickle and tease my ultra sensitive skin. The coffeehouse was not where I wanted to be. I wanted to be alone, to feel that sensation all over my body.

"I think we should leave. Now," I whispered in his ear. He wanted to know if I was sure. I had dreamed of being with Edward for weeks now. I wanted to taste him, feel him inside of me. I wanted to feel the rough texture of his face rubbing across my shoulder, down my chest, between my thighs. I wanted to love him, make him mine. There was nothing in the world I wanted more.

So we drove home.

But we stopped and talked, which was prudent, because he needed answers. He deserved answers. Edward always knew when we needed to talk. It was part of his analytical nature. He needed to protect himself too. Knowing where I was coming from would allow us to continue where we wanted to go. We could walk on the same path, together.

_I KNOW._

Who was trying to fuck with me? Who would care about what I did? My mind raced over the past weeks trying to think of someone whose path I crossed, someone I wronged. I couldn't think of anyone. It wasn't like a ton of people I knew would go and look at the website.

I folded up both notes, putting them in the wooden box before closing the drawer. I couldn't think about it anymore. There was nothing I could do, so why dwell on it?

I was exhausted from the events of the day and hungry. Edward walked into the bedroom just as the drawer slid shut.

"Pizza will be ready in five," he said cheerfully. "Want to watch a movie?" It looked like he was ready to move on too.

"Sure. Like what?" As tired as I was, anything would have appealed to me. In fact, I wasn't sure I would be able to keep my eyes open.

"Actually, I just got something in the mail. I put it on my queue because I thought you might like it, and I've heard good things about it." I cocked a brow at him, encouraging him to continue. "_Boy Culture_. It's a film about gay men, and I thought it would be … fun to get immersed in it. What do you think?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

"Sure. Sounds good to me. It'll be nice to see a film about my people, now that I have new people," I smirked at him.

We settled into watch the movie and inhaled our pizza. Despite my fatigue, the film did more than hold my attention. Edward and I moved to our bedroom and talked about the movie for an hour. All the while, I gently caressed his naked form as he spooned in front of me. I ran my fingers over his hip and down his thigh, gently raking my nails every so often. I gave his chest and stomach long, smooth strokes, lightly tracing the taut skin of his nipples.

Lying there, feeling his lean body pressed up against mine with only a few sexual touches, made me feel at home. For years I had walked around simple and lackluster, but when Edward was lying next to me, I felt like his serifs had transformed me, turning me from plain print to a beautiful script. I felt whole.

Edward didn't even know how much he'd changed me. With women I was always the aggressor. I always took the lead. But with Edward, it was somehow different. I wanted him to lead the way.

He seemed to understand my body better than I did.

He touched me in ways no woman ever had.

He showed me my body could experience pleasure in new and exciting ways.

He licked and tasted my skin with reverence, as if I was something to savor.

I would watch him travel along my body, taking in my scent, devouring my essence, and I never felt self conscious or embarrassed. He took pleasure in the smell of my most intimate areas, relishing it, causing him to get harder still.

The discovery of my body and what I liked took moments rather than weeks, like it did with women. He knew how to stroke me, lick me, how to make me come. He knew how to bite me and give me just enough stimulation so I crashed over the edge, rather than sitting there teetering and waiting. And he knew when I was ready for my release and helped me find it.

When we made love he asked me to top, but I didn't feel more dominant. I felt equal. We hadn't talked about it, but I knew when Edward chose to bottom for me, there was a lot of thought put into that choice. He was giving himself to me, letting me take him so I would feel like I had power and control of this new experience.

Yet, it was the non-sexual touches that taught me the most about Edward, how gentle and loving he was. He wanted to take care of me. Feeling his hands washing my body, bathing me, not only in bubbles and suds, but also with his passion and emotion. His touches told me I love you. You are important. You will always come first.

I was quickly getting comfortable in my own skin … my new skin. The skin I had always been in but didn't recognize for what it was. That was the night I came out to Rose and my friends. It was easier than telling Edward, much easier, and I had finally said the words, "I'm gay."

Rosalie was surprised, but it made sense to her. She knew how close Edward and I had always been, and knew that if anyone would treat me right, it would be him. She was concerned about me telling Dad. We both thought Mom would be ok with my news, but Dad was not going to take it well. I was preparing myself for being rejected, or worse. I felt bad for bringing stress to my family, but the more I looked back, the more I realized how pressured I'd been for years.

My worries would come and go, but I could rarely identify them. I only knew they made me feel anxious and lonely. The one thing that helped was spending time with Edward. As soon as he would step in the room, all the stress would suddenly wash away. I knew I needed to spend time with him to somehow feel right.

One summer afternoon when I was seventeen, my father confronted me. It was a Saturday, and Edward had spent the night. He had returned from Europe the day before and as soon as his jet lag had worn off he came over to fill me in on his trip. As usual, he spent the night, both of us sleeping in my full-size bed. Apparently my father walked in my room after midnight and found us in only our underwear, tangled in each other's limbs. We had slept in the same bed for years, whenever we spent the night, often ending up in this position. It was nothing unusual for us, but my father had never seen it.

The next afternoon when he returned from his fishing trip he asked me to come out to the backyard and help him stack firewood. When I got out back to the woodpile, he started accusing me of being gay.

"I saw you and your boyfriend_ snugglin'_ last night. Are you and Edward an item now?" He spit his words at me and didn't give me a chance to respond. "Are you a fuckin' faggot now, Jasper? Do you need to be taught a lesson?"

I didn't know how to respond, but when he picked up the maul I became fearful. He threw it over his shoulder and started to stalk toward me. I turned to run, only to hear him throw down the ax and chase after me. Tripping over a tree root, I landed face first and quickly rolled to my back to defend myself. He straddled me, pinning me to the ground and spit in my face.

"No son of mine is going to be a cock eater. You tell me, boy, are you sucking that boys cock?" he yelled. "TELL ME!"

I was so terrified I couldn't speak. He took my silence as assent. Tears filled my eyes, blurring my vision when I saw a large motion in front of me. I heard the crack before I felt the pain in my cheek. My mother's screams could be heard, and I felt my father's weight leave me. Something cold was pressed to my cheek. Frozen peas, by the smell. My mother's face was above me, telling me everything was going to be fine. "I love you, Jasper, no matter what. I love you," she chanted. Rosalie stood by, glaring at my father as he left.

I drove my truck over to Edward's house. His father examined me. Edward held me close.

I never told him what happened.

I never invited Edward over to my house again.

I spent time with my stress reliever at his house.

I slept in his bed.

I watched movies on his couch.

I held his hand and felt the worries of my world melt into nothingness.

My father didn't come home for three days. I rarely went home, except to sleep and eat, until I moved away. I've hardly been back since. When Edward came out in college and my father overheard me talking to Rose about it, he started his accusations again, but Rosalie cut him off. He had been standing in the doorway to my room eaves dropping.

When he started calling Edward a fairy and pointing at me, again in accusation, Rosalie stood up, walked over to him, and poked him in the chest. "You know, by the way you overreact to things like this, Dad, I'm starting to suspect you're the one who's gay."

He slapped Rosalie, but she slapped him back. Nobody slapped Rosalie.

In my father's eyes I was gay by association. Simply being friends with Edward made me gay. His eyes were cold and calculating as he watched me move around the house after that, looking for signs that I was gay. I guess he never found what he was looking for, because eventually he softened and apologized to me for making accusations. He met several of my girlfriends and even became polite to Edward again, but never warm like he had been when we were boys.

Since before I came out to Edward, I had tried to imagine a way of telling my father that wouldn't end in violence. I didn't know if he would resort to that again, but I had to be prepared. I needed to be in as much control of the situation as possible. I needed it to happen on my turf, and I needed to be surrounded by people who loved and supported me. That much I knew.

Then I found myself pulling away from Edward. At the 2(x)ist photo shoot, the director of photography was an ass, making me self-conscious about being _out_ in public. Not that Edward and I were doing anything beyond what the jerk had told us to do, Edward just happened to show his _enthusiasm_ a bit more than I had. And then his words after the shoot made me fearful. I hadn't thought about gay bashing until his comments hit home.

Edward and I would be together in public and I would notice people watching us. I felt their eyes burning into me, even after we had walked past. I felt like I was on display, neon lights flashing "I'm Gay" across my forehead. I stood further away from Edward. I refused to hold his hand. I even tried to avoid eye contact in heavily populated areas, not trusting my control if I looked into his gorgeous green eyes. I couldn't have him get hurt because of me. So I pulled away further still.

And I hurt him.

He thought I was ashamed of him.

He thought I was ashamed of us.

How could I have been so blind to what I was doing to him? I was hurting him every time I withdrew. I was hurting him every time I didn't reach out for him. I needed to go to him, to be the one to walk forward. I was shutting out the one person I needed in my life. He was my panacea.

Then he was there, standing in front of the house, and I went to him. People were swarming our street that night and I didn't care.

I pulled him to me and kissed him with all the love I felt for him, proclaiming that he was the man I loved and I was proud of that. I heard small whispers as people walked by, some even derogatory, but I didn't care.

I thought of those boys sitting behind that tree on campus, kissing with such passion. They didn't care that I watched them. Now, I was one of those boys.

I bit into the apple he held for me. He licked its juice from my chin. His lips and tongue met mine. I heard nasty words coming from across the studio. I flinched and pulled away. Then I saw Edward's face. There was no way in hell that could happen. I watched as Edward stripped the boy down with his words, leaving him just as naked as the stranger had made me feel. I felt my pants get tighter at the mere sight of Edward's anger at the boy.

He didn't need me to keep him protected. He'd kept himself safe for years and I hadn't even realized it. _I _was new to this. _I_ needed to learn how to be out in public.

A soft sigh pulled me away from my meditation. Edward's breathing had slowed as he lay next to me. My hand rested in the middle of his chest and I could feel the beating of his heart. It soothed me as I felt his skin pulse beneath my fingers. I buried my nose further into his neck, his soft hair gently tickling me, and I fell asleep with no stress. Relaxed and warm.

The next day while Edward and I were on campus, I asked him to meet me near the spot I had watched those beautiful boys kiss. When he arrived, he was wearing his white and navy ringer T-shirt that looked like the navy blue GAP logo, however it really said GAY. I wondered if I would ever be so bold. He wore his navy rain jacket and dark blue jeans. On his feet he wore a pair of red leather tennis shoes. The shoes made the look. He was hot.

The campus was bustling with people, class having just let out. People were streaming by us on the path as I walked up to Edward and kissed his smiling lips. He wore his glasses, which were always a turn on for me. I didn't know what it was about his black frames, but they seemed to draw even more attention to his sparkling emerald eyes.

I must have surprised him with my public display of affection because he pulled back and looked at me curiously. "What's this? With all these people around?"

"Sure, why the fuck not? If you can walk around campus wearing that shirt and not get your ass kicked, then why can't I kiss you?" I was feeling bold. I felt ready to make a stand. I grabbed his hand and pulled him off the path toward the trees.

Pushing him against a maple, I rested my hands on the rough bark on either side of his head. I looked at his face, his full brows hooding his eyes, strong cheekbones, and the way his jaw transformed into his perfect chin. He gave me his fuckhot smile, the one that lit up his whole face.

"What's gotten into you today?" he asked, laughing and clearly not understanding I had an epiphany last night.

"Well, first of all, I guess I did some thinking while you were sleeping in my arms last night." I leaned in and kissed his temple, smelling his concentrated scent. "After I saw you dress down that kid, I realized I didn't need to be afraid."

"Afraid of what? Some punk-ass kid who doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut, or something else?" He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to him, resting my hips against his.

"I guess I've been afraid if we were too public about us, it might set us up for bashing, and I didn't want that to happen to you," I sheepishly admitted, looking down and toeing the grass in front of Edward's foot.

"That's always a risk we take, Jasper, but I'm willing to take it here on campus and several other places. I'm not going to walk into a rodeo and wrap my arms around you … unless it's the gay rodeo. In that case, I'll wrap more than my arms around you," he said before he ran his tongue across his teeth and lips.

I ground my denim-covered cock into him and heard him moan. That's not why I brought him here, but I guess my cock had other ideas.

"You're too much of a flirt for your own good, you know that?" I asked as I shoved myself off the tree and pushed my fingers into his always-messy, bronze hair. "I brought you here to kiss you, not molest you with my crotch, now stop tempting me."

He laughed at me. "So you asked me to meet you here for a kiss and that's all?" He didn't sound convinced. In fact, he sounded incredulous.

"That's all I want. I want to kiss you in the middle of campus, nothing more, nothing less." And so I did. I slid my hands down from his hair, allowing them to rest alongside his neck, thumbs ghosting his ears lobes. I captured his lush lips in mine, savoring his wet flavor. His hands slipped under the hem of my shirt and slowly slid up my back as he glided his tongue across my mine. He moved inside my mouth with slow, luxurious caresses, searching out the deepest recesses.

I thought of the beautiful boys and how their hands disappeared and I eagerly lost my hands under his shirt. We stood there exchanging kisses, touching bare skin as it gently started to rain around us, the canopy above keeping us dry. The earthy smell of rain filled my head, intoxicating me, freeing my mind to feel. My right hand skimmed up the center of Edward's chest, fingers tangling in his velvety fuzz.

He pulled away, breathing a bit heavily. "I thought you only wanted to kiss me?" His devious smile lit up his face as he winked at me.

"You make it hard for me to stop."

He reached down to feel the swelling in my pants and laughed, "I certainly do know how to make it hard, don't I?"

"Hell yes," I hissed into his mouth as I kissed him again. I reached around and grabbed his ass, lifting him up. He wrapped his legs around my waist, but I lost my balance and tumbled backward to the ground, Edward collapsing on top of me. We lost ourselves in laughter. Just then Emmett's booming voice called our names.

"Em, what the hell are you doing back on campus?" I shouted while scrambling to get up off the wet grass and not hurt Edward in the process.

"Ah, yeah. I'm here scouting out a location for work. Nothing major, just some piddley shit, but it looks like you two are out and proud today. Huh?" He waggled his brows at us and gestured with open arms at the entire campus.

"Hey, I've been out and proud for years, Emmett," Edward said, pointing at his shirt. Emmett looked at it for a second before he started to laugh.

"That, you have been, Edward, my man. Say," he said thoughtfully, "you guys going to Alice and Bella's Halloween party?"

"Is there anywhere else to be on Halloween? Are you going?" Edward asked.

"You know it. Rosalie is already working on our costumes. Do you know what you guys are wearing?"

Edward looked at me and answered, "We haven't even thought about it. I think we'd better start talking. We've been so busy with our art show, we've had little time to think about costumes."

"Emmett," a small red headed girl hollered, "can we get this over with? I think we should get back"

"Ok, guys. I'll see you at the party," he said as he jogged back to the sidewalk, waving.

"Halloween. We'll be there," I assured him before he took off down the sidewalk.

Edward and I headed toward the art studio as the rain started to come down in heavy sheets. I grabbed his hand as we ran. It reminded me of earlier days when Edward would lead me toward the river in his backyard, but this time I took the lead.

* * *

**Edit: 2/4/2012**


	12. Jealousy & Security

**Jealousy & Security**

"I get to choose. It's up to me tonight," he said playfully, looking over his shoulder as he rifled through my dresser drawers, holding up shirts to inspect them before neatly refolding them.

"Come on, Edward. I can dress myself. How do you think I managed for the last twenty-two years?" I didn't understand why he was being so adamant about this, but he wasn't letting it go. "Okay, fine. What should I wear?" I threw my hands up in defeat as I sat down on our bed. He pulled a few sweaters out and held them against my chest, tilting his head from side to side as he pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, trying to make a decision.

"This." He threw me an orange sweater my sister had bought me years ago that I never wore because it was too tight. "You look great in orange, and the deep V-neck is perfect."

I looked at him with incredulity, my jaw dropping as a gasp of distaste accidentally escaped. One brow rose on his determined face and I knew I'd be wearing the orange sweater.

"I am the one who's going to be watching you all night and I want you in something … that will easily draw my eye. I don't want to lose you at the club, okay?"

We were going to one of Seattle's gay clubs, Eclipse. This would be my first time going to a gay club, so I was a bit nervous. Of course, I wasn't sure Edward would've even considered inviting me in the past. So far, every club we'd gone to had been just an ordinary club. It would be interesting to see Edward in his element. We had done nearly everything together over the years, but this was the one thing Edward had never included me in.

"So, do I get to pick out what you wear?" If I was going to walk into the club looking like a Dreamsicle, I figured I should be allowed some sort of recourse. "Don't answer that! _I'll_ be picking out what you wear. God, I'm such a girl!" I moaned as Edward laughed at my exasperation.

I opened his drawers, rummaging through various shirts and sweaters. What did I want him to wear? He mentioned not getting lost, so I assumed it would be crowded. What color? Nothing struck me in his drawers, so I headed for the closet. That's when I found the short-sleeved, periwinkle blue button down shirt. Blue always made him look hot, especially the way it made his bronze hair and pale skin stand out, making him look otherworldly.

"This is what Edward Cullen will be wearing tonight. Do you have any objections?" I asked as I started to lift his T-shirt over his head. He shook his head once he was freed, and I helped him slip his arms into the new shirt. After smoothing the blue fabric over his turquoise, sheer briefs that let me see every inch of him, I ran my fingers along his perfect cock that peered through the transparent fabric, because it begged to be touched, every curve and line of him. He groaned at my touch, and I felt my own dick start to thicken. My eyes followed along the straight line of his cock as I traced it, buttoning his shirt from the bottom up so I could linger, brushing against him with my knuckles. The sleeves of his shirt fit tight around his arms showing off his strong biceps. I left the top three button undone so I could see a little of his dark brown chest hair. Running my fingers through it, I leaned down and kissed between his pecs.

Stepping back, I definitely appreciated the cut of the shirt and how it hugged every part of him I ached to touch. "Not bad, if I say so myself," I said, nodding my head as I eye fucked him. His hair in perfect disarray, I ran a finger from his temple across his chin, halting only when my thumb skimmed across his rosy lips.

"Come on, you sexy bastard. I need to get you dressed," he said, but my lips had other ideas. Just as I was deepening our kiss, I felt my sweater being pulled down over my head and our connection was broken. I pouted at the loss but was quickly rewarded with a smile and another, passionate kiss.

I looked down at my chest, running my hands over the soft, silky yarns. The sweater was tighter than I remembered. I guess all my time in the gym had paid off, but this was snugger than I had anticipated.

"Are you sure about this, Edward? Isn't it a bit too tight?" I looked at him, worried.

"Not too tight. In fact, where we're headed, some would consider this loose," he chuckled.

What had I gotten myself into? Tight clothes apparently, because the next thing I knew, Edward was pulling on a very tight pair of blue jeans and had found me a pair as well. I drew the line at black jeans. I didn't need to look like a jack-o-lantern, even if it was October.

Edward found his keys and we walked out the door into the crisp autumn night. After a short drive, we arrived at Eclipse. I thought I knew what to expect, but nothing could really have prepared me. It was loud and crowded like most clubs, but naked skin was everywhere. The dance floor pulsed to the beat of the music like a living organism, all hair and skin and sweat.

Edward led me around the dance floor and upstairs to a balcony that overlooked the club, people waving and greeting Edward like an old friend. I was glad to get above the fray so I could acclimate myself to the scene. I leaned over the railing to check out the action on the dance floor. Heading over to the second floor bar to get us drinks, I watched as Edward's beautiful ass moved away from me. My eyes were drawn to movement around him, noticing heads turning to ogle him as he passed. I scowled as I felt a wave of jealousy wash over me.

At the bar, a blond kid, not much older than eighteen, walked over to Edward and wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his head on my Edward's shoulder. The only thing he was wearing, from what I could see, was a tiny pair of iridescent shorts and a pair of feather wings on his back. His chest was covered in glitter and he sparkled when the strobe lights hit him when he moved.

Edward greeted him with a nod and quickly turned to talk to the bartender, ordering our drinks. That's when he was pulled into a kiss, and I felt my blood boil. Edward's arm came up and he pushed the angel away. He looked over his shoulder at me with an apologetic look on his face, so I smiled, pushing down my jealousy.

As he walked back toward me with two bottles of beer in hand, several men kissed him on the cheek in greeting, and I could see that Edward had a secret life here at Eclipse, or so it seemed.

The cold bottle of beer he placed in my hand was quickly tipped to my lips. I took a long pull from it, nearly draining it, trying to drown my jealousy while Edward looked at me with concern. His arm slipped around my shoulder and he pulled me close, whispering in my ear, "You have nothing to worry about, Jasper, but you're hot when you're jealous."

I was embarrassed for feeling green-eyed. I leaned into Edward's touch and kissed him behind the ear when he took a drink from his beer.

"So, what do you think of the famous Eclipse?" he asked as he waved his hand in front of him. "It's angel night, I see," he said in a matter of fact tone.

I finally allowed myself to fully take in the club. Several platforms of various heights and shapes were raised throughout the club surrounded by sleek, brushed nickel railings. On each of the pedestals were go-go boys dancing. They were all wearing the same iridescent shorts and wings like the little twink who had kissed Edward. Some wings were small and downy white, barely covering the boys' backs, while one boy's wings would have rivaled the Victoria Secret model's, not only in their size, but complexity. As I scanned the go-go boys it seemed the larger wings went to the better dancers, and I got caught up in watching how their wings moved and shifted as they swayed and thrust their hips.

The walls of the club were painted a dark, chocolate brown, giving it a warm, expansive feel, superficially dissolving into nothingness. Strobes flashed, disco balls turned, leaving millions of sparkles on the floor and walls and seemingly endless beams of light shot through the space until a hand shot up and broke the shaft.

The bar down stairs was flooded in light that shifted from green to blue, giving the bartenders an almost alien look. Tables were few and far between, with most of the seating being leather couches in either espresso or lime green.

The upper balcony we stood on surrounded the room, gradually easing down a few steps to create new levels until it met up with the first floor. The couches surrounded the outer walls and were covered with men in various states of undress, doing anything from talking to sucking each other off.

"I guess I don't have to be worried about kissing you here, huh?" I said, gesturing with my head toward a couch across the balcony from us.

"Nope," he popped as he leaned into me, kissing me full on the mouth. I turned my body into him, wrapping my hands around his lower back before returning his kiss with unabashed fervor. He froze for a half beat before answering back with the same intensity. Pulling his tongue into my mouth, I nipped and sucked on it, discovering he tasted amazing and his scent drove me mad. Making my way down the smooth skin of his neck, I bit hard at the crook. He groaned, throwing his head to the side letting me suck and tear at his skin. I heard his beer bottle clatter to the floor, and as he pulled me closer into him, I took two hands full of his ass and ground my erection into him, relishing in the knowledge that I made his cock as hard as it was just by kissing him. He pulled away, eyes darkened with lust and said, "Fuck, Jas. I nearly jizzed myself."

"It just feels so good to be able to do that to you in public without worrying about who's watching or what they'll say," I admitted while smirking. "It's freeing, and I must say, I've always been a bit of an exhibitionist."

"I've noticed," he laughed. "Come on, let's go find a place to sit," he said before we made our way around the balcony.

We rounded the second corner when I heard, "Edward! You're back! I haven't seen you in months. What have you been up to?" The stranger's voice was low and rough, like he had smoked since he was in the womb. He had straight blond hair and warm, brown eyes, like milk chocolate. I didn't know who he was, but he appeared to know Edward very well. Jumping up from his seat on a green couch he pulled Edward in for a long, tender hug, and then kissed him on the mouth as he pulled away.

The green monster was awakened again.

"Riley, it's good to see you. I'd like to introduce you to Jasper. Jasper, this is Riley." I held out my hand, and he shook it warmly as he looked me up and down, eyes lingering on my dick. Still semi-hard from our kiss, I felt my pants tighten further when I realized how everyone in the club seemed to want Edward. As I had watched him kiss Riley, I watched his lips, knowing they would be on mine or around my cock soon enough.

"Sit down, guys," he gestured to the couch and shooed a few people down. "It's been too long, Edward. Where have you been? Hiding? What's going on?" He peppered him with questions in a near accusatory tone.

Edward held up his hands in defense, "I've been busy with school and life," he grabbed my hand and looked at me, "and Jasper." Then he leaned over and kissed me.

"So, this is the new boy, huh? It looks like Edward Cullen might be off the market," he joked. "Tell me it isn't so?" he leaned forward and put his hand on Edward's knee, looking into my eyes.

"I'm afraid so, Riley. Do you remember me telling you about the guy I always had a thing for?" he asked. "Well—"

"Oh, you mean the straight one, your roommate, right? Yes Edward, we've all been in love with a straight man at one time or another. I'm glad you let that one go," he said rolling his eyes. "This one," he reached across Edward and rubbed my inner thigh, "he's hot, and no worries about him being straight, I can tell by what he's packing in his pants that he's loving the view," he said as he smacked the ass of an angel passing by.

The stricken angel turned to see who whacked him and his eyes were immediately drawn to Edward. He turned on his heel and made a running leap, landing on Edward's lap.

"Edward! Oh. My. God. I've missed you so much!" he practically shrieked before he leaned in for a kiss. I saw Edward pull back, but the angel wouldn't have anything to do with it as he opened his mouth to Edward and licked across the lips that were mine. I grit my teeth and closed my eyes as the jealousy bloomed even larger.

"Paul! Get the fuck off him," Riley yelled, pulling him from Edward by his waist and setting him in his own lap. "This is Edward's boyfriend, Jasper," he directed his gaze at me. "So kindly keep your mouth off Edward, okay? You're going to give Jasper a heart attack over there." I tried, with little success, to put a smile on my face.

"Sorry, Jasper, was it?" Paul said sheepishly to both of us. He was built long and lean like a typical twink with beautiful russet skin and jet-black hair. Leaning over to adjust his shoe, I saw the curve of his gorgeous butt and noticed Edward and Riley were scrutinizing it as well. I'm sure his bending over was done for our benefit. Sitting up and looking around, his obsidian eyes focused on Riley and Edward, ignoring me completely. "I just haven't seen Eddie in a long time and I missed him." He redirected his focus to me and looked me up and down. "I'm dancing with him," he stated, as he tilted his head to one side, leading Edward downstairs to the dance floor. Edward met my eyes and mouthed an apology, following Paul with a shrug of his shoulders.

"So, Jasper. Tell me," Riley redirected my attention back to him. "How long have you and Edward been together?"

"Well, let's see. We've been best friends since we were fifteen but only recently started dating." If that's what you could call it. Dating. Not really. But what else would I say. We've been boyfriends for several weeks. Boyfriends seemed like such a flat and naked term. We were so much more than that.

He was my best friend.

He was my lover.

He was my partner.

I couldn't say all that considering how long we'd been together, especially when it had only technically been a few weeks. But in reality, it was so much longer than that.

"Why didn't you fuck before? What took you two so long?" I was a little shocked by how blunt he was, but I could understand his curiosity.

"I'm the straight friend who recently realized he's not exactly straight," I admitted shyly. He opened his mouth in recognition and raised one brow.

"So, _you're_ the one who's kept Edward so elusive all these years. I can see why. You're _gorgeous_," he said as he reached over, pushing my curls behind my ear and trailing his fingers down my neck causing goose bumps to appear on my arms. "I see why I never stood a chance." I looked at him in confusion.

"Edward and I used to date." He had a far off look in his eye as he continued. "We were together for about six months before I fucked up and cheated. We broke up last May." I had never heard Edward mention Riley, not even once, and they had been together for half a year? I must have looked perplexed and Riley picked up on it. "Edward and I only saw each other on nights you were out, and he never invited me over to his house. I didn't realize this for months, but it became abundantly clear that someone was more important to him than me, but I didn't know who it was. I just assumed he was cheating on me, so eventually I let some guy fuck me to get it over with. I flaunted it and we had a huge fight. That's when I found out he hadn't cheated, at least not by fucking someone else. But emotionally, he was always with you."

I had no idea how to respond to Riley because I didn't know what to make of everything he'd told me. Edward had always been pretty tight lipped about his relationships, more so in recent years, but I had no idea he was as secure as fucking Fort Knox.

Grabbing my hand, Riley led me over to the railing and pointed down toward Edward and Paul on the dance floor. They were easy to spot because wings were everywhere, seeming to place them in the center of feathered parentheses. Angels surrounded them as they danced. Watching from above, I could see Edward's muscled back flex under the tight fabric of his shirt as his hips shifted and thrust to the beat. Remembering his underwear, I pictured him dancing in only the sheer, turquoise fabric, my mouth watering at the thought. They looked good together, playing off one another and moving with grace and raw sexuality. I got excited, thinking about us dancing together. Edward turned toward me and his face was conflicted, like he wanted to be having fun but couldn't find it in himself to completely let go. I could see several angels' hands reaching toward Edward and a low growl escaped from my chest.

"A little jealous, huh?" Riley teased. I looked at him and glared, not appreciating the jibe. "Edward always attracts men wherever he goes. Everyone would love a chance to be fucked by Edward Cullen, but few have been. That just makes him all the more desirable. I suggest you get down there and dance with him before the angels join forces and carry him off to the back room." He pushed my shoulder, and slapped me on the ass as he directed me toward the stairs.

It appeared I had practically lost the ability to speak since walking into the club. Perhaps it was the sensory overload or my jealousy, but I think it was the realization that Edward had a double life. I didn't know what to make of it: the secret relationships, all of the attention, or even the obvious affection he accepted from people I didn't know.

I made my way across the dance floor as quickly as I could, knocking into a few people, leaving apologies in my wake. I hit a wall of white wings that seemed impenetrable, so I ducked down and slid in between two sweaty bodies. When I popped up, I met Edward's eyes. He looked relieved to see me and pulled me into an enthusiastic kiss. I heard Edward's name being shouted all around us, trying to pull his attention away from me, but he wouldn't be distracted.

His mouth continued to move against mine and I could feel the scratch of his scruff on my lips, making them tingle in that exquisite way I loved so much. Edward's name was no longer being said, and I felt a quick whoosh of air flutter past the damp skin on the back of my neck. I pulled back and saw that the angels had all walked away, leaving us. I looked up to the balcony and saw Riley wave at me with a sad smile before he returned to the couch.

The noise on the dance floor was so much louder and I could barely hear Edward as he spoke. I put my forefinger on his lips to quiet him before I drew him close to kiss his neck. Letting my hands roam wherever they wanted, I took pleasure in the feel of his hardened muscled under my hands. We danced enveloped in each other for several songs before I pulled back to cool my body off. Even though I was sweating through my sweater, I was unwilling to leave the dance floor or Edward.

I looked around the club and saw people glaring at me. I didn't know what to make of it and looked at Edward with a wary gaze. He shook his head and rolled his eyes before he scanned the crowd.

He pulled me close so he could talk in my ear, "Don't pay them any attention. They're just wondering who the fuck you are." And they were most likely wondering what Edward was doing with me and not them. Knowing that I was pissing these guys off, I got a smug smile on my face.

Edward was mine.

With that new knowledge, I turned around, pushing myself back into Edward's chest and crossing his arms across my waist, resting his hands on my hipbones. While he ground himself into me, I could feel his firmness digging into my muscle, so I pushed my hips back further into him and I felt his right hand slide down to where my upper thigh met my groin. I dressed to the right and he knew it. While he gently stroked my cock with his thumb, I dropped my head back to rest on his shoulder. I leaned into him and allowed him to move my body with his.

I got lost in the pumping rhythm of the music, the thrusting of his cock into muscle, and the stroking of his thumb. As my breathing picked up, I could hear Edward moaning in my ear with each push of his hips. Just hearing him, made my cock grow harder and my desire to dance was quickly replaced with the yearning to remove the torturous barrier of denim fabric between us.

I wanted to feel him inside of me.

I was brought out of my thoughts when Edward's arms were ripped away from my body, leaving cold desire behind. I opened my eyes to see Paul's obsidian eyes in front of me, with a look of unadulterated hatred. He held onto Edward's wrists so tightly his knuckles turned white from the pressure. Edward ripped an arm away and grabbed the back of my waistband, pulling me behind him before he stood toe to toe with Paul.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Paul?" Edward spat.

"He's had you long enough," he shouted with a petulant pout. "When do I get a turn?"

"Paul, I'm here with Jasper," Edward said, more gently. "This is his first time here, and I've danced with you already. Jasper is my boyfriend. Why don't you go find Riley? I'm sure he'd love to dance. I haven't seen him down here yet." Paul stomped off, his wings bouncing with each footfall he took up the steps. I had a feeling Paul wasn't done with his childish tantruming though.

Edward turned back toward me and took me back into his arms. "Sorry. He gets a little over eager when I come here. I usually dance with him because he's a nice kid and a great dancer, but he thinks I'm his, which I am definitely not," he smirked, pulling me in for a kiss.

"Well, he's certainly made it known he wants you, as have several other guys here," I teased.

"Right. I don't think so, Jasper," he said, oblivious to the attention he drew.

"Are you kidding?" I asked with incredulity. He pulled his brows together for the briefest of moments. "From the minute we walked into this place, it's been like Edward Central. You've been the focus of nearly every man in this place. You've been stared at, hugged, sat on, kissed, and nearly assaulted. Haven't you noticed all the eyes that've been on you all night?" I asked.

"No. I've been keeping my eyes on you, not on anyone else. Either that, or I've had them closed so I could better concentrate on feeling you against me. You're the only one I want to look at," he confessed.

"Riley told me you're the most desired fuck in the club and that everyone wants to go home with you." I smiled against his cheek. "But they don't get to go home with you. I do."

Just then, I saw Paul running to the dance floor with Riley chasing closely behind. As they approached us, Paul swung his right arm back and threw a tall glass of pink liquid across Edward's back and in my face. I tried to shield Edward, but I wasn't quick enough. I wiped the liquid out of my eyes, blinking to remove the stinging sensation. Edward spun around just in time to see Riley grab Paul from behind and drag him off the dance floor.

"Paul, you have to calm down." We heard him shouting over the music. People around us had stopped dancing to watch the spectacle, shifting their gaze from Edward and me back to Paul and Riley. Some shook their heads, while others moved to assist Edward. He put his arms out, effectively refusing their assistance, and they backed off.

When Edward returned to look at me, his face was full of rage, brows so furrowed they nearly met. Gritting his teeth, the muscles in his jaw clenched and unclenched in a steady rhythm. I didn't know if I'd ever seen him this angry, but I knew we had to get out of there so he wouldn't pursue Paul. I pulled on his hand and started to drag him toward the bathroom.

When we walked in, I heard men sucking and fucking each other in the stalls, hands draped over the dividers, pants puddled around ankles. Ignoring them, Edward and I walked to the sink, assessing the damage. I washed my face and saw that my eyes were rimmed with red, no doubt from the burning alcohol. Edward's shirt was soaked, so I grabbed paper towels to help dry his back off; it was of little use.

"Fucking little shit!" he growled. "God damn it. Come out for a night of dancing and you end up with a tweaked out twink ruining the night. Let's get the hell out of here." He stormed out of the bathroom, and I nearly had to run to keep up with him.

When we got to the Volvo, he threw his keys at me and said, "I'm too fucking pissed to drive." I caught the keys and grabbed a blanket from the trunk. After I unlocked the doors, I laid it across the passenger seat so Edward wouldn't ruin his upholstery. He climbed in and roughly pulled his seat-belt across his body and failed three times before getting it clicked, only adding to his rage.

I didn't really know what to do, since I hadn't seen him like this. Sure, he had a temper, but this was different. I figured keeping quiet was my best bet, so I just started the car and headed toward home. The silence penetrated the small space making it feel cold and icy, but I wasn't about to tempt fate.

When we walked through the front door, Edward immediately walked back to our bedroom, stripped, and walked into the shower. I mourned a little when his underwear hit the floor, disappointed I didn't get to remove them. Grabbing the discarded clothes, I put them in the hamper, aside from his shirt. Examining his wet shirt, I took it to the laundry room to soak in the basin, hoping the pink liquid wouldn't stain the Egyptian cotton.

Lately, it seemed like we attracted trouble when we were together. Every time we went out in public, something seemed to happen. Home was becoming more and more of a sanctuary, but I didn't want it to become a prison. I didn't want our home to be something I felt I needed to escape from. Why was going out so difficult?

Edward was angry, but it wasn't his fault that Paul acted immature and possessive. We were there to dance and have fun, not to be accosted. Edward was blaming himself; I could tell by the silence he maintained on our drive home. I couldn't let that happen.

Pulling my sweaty clothes off, I put them in the hamper and made my way into the bathroom. I watched Edward through the clear glass, face upturned as water fell from the rainfall showerhead, trailing down his shoulders and back. The wall-mounted sprays hit the sides of his body, framing his beautiful form in a soft watery haze. I opened the door and joined him, unnoticed.

I walked across the slate tiles, feeling the side jets washing away the tacky feel of sweat and the anger of the night. My arms wrapped around Edward's waist and I placed a kiss in between his shoulder blades.

"I'm sorry tonight didn't go as planned, Edward. I had a good time dancing with you, for what it's worth." I tried to sound relaxed, hoping to soothe his anger away. I needed him to loosen up. "Have you washed your hair yet?" He shook his head slowly, so I reached for his shampoo and gently worked his hair into a lather. I felt him lean back into me, letting some of the tension in his shoulders go as I placed soft kisses across his back and slowly massaged his scalp. He released pleasing sounds as I ran my nails through his hair. Turning his body to rinse his hair under the cascading flow, I saw his face had relaxed and his eyes closed.

"I love you, Jasper." He rested his forehead on my shoulder and released a big sigh.

"I love you too. More than anything."

I wrapped my arms around him and let him fall into me, and when he brushed up against my cock, it sprung to life. This wasn't really the time. My body had other ideas. All the teasing and jealousy of the evening directed all of my blood between my legs and there was nothing I could do about it.

Edward must have felt the effect he had on me because he looked down, and I felt him start to shake in my arms before I heard his low chuckle.

"It's just too easy with you, Jasper." As he lifted his head to look at me, I felt the heat of a blush rush to my cheeks.

"Yes it is, Edward. With you it is … always," I admitted as I stepped around him and rinsed my body off, trying hard to will my dick down. It didn't work.

"I like that I have this effect on you," he said as he wrapped his hand around my aching cock and giving it a few quick pumps. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as I let out a low moan. When I turned to look at Edward, he was opening the shower door and leaving.

"Are you kidding me? You're leaving? No way Edward, you cock tease." I swiftly shut off all the showerheads and grabbed a towel, barely taking the time to dry myself. Roughly running the towel across my hair, I threw it in the hamper and made my way into the bedroom.

Edward was laying face down in the middle of the bed, the moonlight from the window glinting off the small drops of water lingering on his back. The swell of his ass called to me, begging me to come over and touch. My cock twitched at the thought. He looked at me over his shoulder and gave me a wicked smile, teasing me, begging me to come closer. I gave in, running my hand over his warm skin, catching a few drops of water on my fingertips.

I crawled over him, gently laying my body on top of him, feeling the heat radiate off his skin. Hugging my length in his heat, my cock rested between his cheeks. Tucking my chin, I bit his back, making him gasp with pleasure and pain. He arched, shifting his hips just enough to give me wonderful friction before I pulled my hips back and raised myself up on all fours, straddling his body.

Kissing and sucking his neck, I tasted his clean skin and took in his fresh peppermint scent. I ran my tongue down the center of his back, picking up drops of water. Lifting his hips further in the air, I grabbed them with both hands. Edward's head was turned, his eyes closed and moonlight spilled across his face, giving him an ethereal glow.

I kissed his ass, moving down to the sweet spot where his cheeks met his thighs. When I took a bite, he pushed into me, moaning and calling my name. My tongue dove between his flesh and tasted his puckered skin. He gasped, raising his hips off the bed, offering himself to me, so I flattened my tongue, licking him from the base of his balls to his lower back, causing his breathing to become uneven and desperate. Nearly whimpering, I could tell Edward wanted more, as my tongue traced around his pink skin, and when it dove into him, his moans encouraged me. Licking and tasting his sweet flesh, he relaxed around my tongue as it slid across his sensitive skin. Sinking my teeth into his supple ass, I lost myself, feeling his skin glide over my lips, my cheeks, my chin.

Edward's increased moaning and ragged breathing pulled me away from my sensory intoxication, and I saw he was watching me, eyes hooded, dark and lustful, his mouth slightly ajar, tongue sliding across his upper lip. Smiling at him, I continued my ministrations, as he let out a contented sigh. I reached between his legs, feeling how hard he was, and when he pulsed in my hand I had the strongest desire to suck him.

Sitting back, I rolled him over and looked at his perfect cock. My dick responded with a huge twitch, causing it to slap against my stomach. Edward's eyes followed the sound and a huge smile spread across his face. "There it is again. Proof of what I do to you. I love that."

"I bet you do," I said, flexing my muscles for a repeat performance.

Looking down, I took his beautiful cock in my hand and slowly stroked it while I intently studied his picturesque flesh. The silky soft skin glided below my fingertips, encouraging me to explore every inch of him. He watched me as I took his length in, giving me the time I needed to travel around his gorgeous, dusky head and down his rigid shaft. My fingers traced below the ridge of his glans, causing him to arch his back as I touched his sensitive frenulum. My mouth watered as my eyes trailed down his hard length, studying every vein and ridge that begged to be licked.

Taking his hardened flesh into my mouth, I looked up to see his head thrown back into the downy pillow. Relaxing my throat, I sucked him deep, feeling his neatly trimmed curls tickle my nose. I was getting better at taking him all in, and took pleasure in how he felt buried deep down my throat. As I tightened my lips around him, I pulled back and swallowed around his head, eliciting a deep growl. I wasn't sure how much more my aching cock could take, it had been hard for hours, it seemed, and I needed release.

I didn't understand why this was hard for me to request, but I wanted so badly to have him fill me up. Before I could ask, I felt Edward shift his body to roll a condom on my cock. He wanted me to take him. Something inside of me told me that Edward needed this. He needed me to possess his body, and I didn't want to deny him.

Lifting his ankles to my shoulders, I grabbed the lube and slowly pushed my finger past his already relaxed ring of muscle. He was warm and smooth and ready for me so I replaced my finger with the head of my swollen cock. I pressed into him, catching my breath in my throat at the feel of the snugness surrounding me. My head dropped forward as I sheathed myself in him, stopping to give us each a moment to adjust.

When I looked into Edward's eyes again, I saw love and carefree excitement. It was like we were meant to join in this way, and I chided myself for not realizing how wonderful this could have been. I lost so many years that I could have made love with Edward. It seemed like such a waste. Other men had loved him like this while I lay with women and tried to convince myself I enjoyed it. The green monster rose from my belly as I thought of other men loving Edward.

I pulled out of Edward, almost completely then thrust back into him, hard. Jealousy was driving my hips deeper and harder, pounding his flesh so furiously that he slipped up the bed and hit his head on the headboard. He laughed as I yanked him back down the bed before pulling out of him completely and roughly rolling him back to his stomach.

He knew just what I wanted, and raised his hips to offer himself to me as he grabbed his towel to lie beneath him. I slipped my aching cock into his heated flesh again, pulling his hips back toward me. My thrusts were deep and forceful, Edward pushing back into me with each stroke. Grabbing his shoulder to gain more stability, I pounded his ass as hard and I could, positive I was hitting his prostate with each beat. He moaned and called my name, vocalizing his pleasure and spurring me on.

Sitting back, I rubbed a hand along the curve of his back and buttocks. His body was a thing of beauty as he flexed and arched beneath me, sides shuddering as his breathing became more and more unsteady. I knew he was close to coming so I leaned over his back and laced my fingers through his.

"Fuck, Edward. You are so beautiful beneath me. Do you want to come?" I asked in a throaty voice I barely recognized as my own. He merely nodded, unable to speak. Speeding my hips, I thrust deeper, if that was possible, and bit down on his shoulder. He curled his back into me and I felt his muscles spasm around my cock, sending me over the edge. I felt my orgasm all the way throughout my body, toes curling, electricity running down my legs and arms as my breath caught in my chest, releasing in quick, sharp gasps. My hands clenched involuntarily around Edward's fingers with each spasm of my cock.

Not wanting to lose my high I stayed there, cocooned around Edward, feeling myself slowly soften inside of him. Wrapping an arm around his chest, I felt our breathing synchronize, slowly returning to normal as my euphoria started to regrettably subside. I slipped from him, easing him onto his side so I could dispose of the condom and the towel. When I rejoined him, his eyes were closed and he was softly humming to himself. I eased in behind him and he let out a contented sigh.

"I like jealous Jasper," Edward mumbled, so relaxed he could barely speak. I nuzzled his neck and kissed the mark I left behind on his shoulder. There was no need for me to see the red bite to know he was mine as our legs tangled together and we became enveloped in each other's warm flesh. I felt his soft humming against my chest and was quickly lulled to sleep by his voice.

#

My next several weeks with Edward were great. I was feeling comfortable simply being myself when we were out in public and making love at home in private. If I wanted to pull him close to me when we were away from home, I did. If he leaned into me, I would kiss him, and I wouldn't hold back the tongue. In fact, I was more aggressive about gaining access to his mouth than he was with me. His mouth simply needed to be tasted.

There were a few times people would say things, or give us accusatory glances, but I basically ignored them. Edward was too important to me to simply be avoided. I needed to hold him close to me, to smell his scent, and to feel his scruff rub against my skin. And he needed me to not be afraid of doing those things.

After we went running one nice, sunny afternoon, we were resting on a park bench before heading back to the car. I was sitting on the bench while Edward was leaning against my chest with his feet stretched out on the metal slats. We were talking when two men walked past, making derogatory comments under their breath, just loud enough for us to hear. Edward leaned his head back and started to kiss me. I was a bit surprised since he was always allowing me to set the pace for public affection. But this time he initiated it, kissing me, and I knew he could feel my comfort.

Each time something like that would happen, we would talk about it. While I wasn't ashamed of us, I didn't like being the focus of so much attention. It made me uncomfortable, but it didn't stop my need to touch him; it was just a part of me now. I struggled more on some days than others. There were also places I was more secure with public displays than others. Around our neighborhood I had no issues holding hands, touching, or even kissing Edward. If we were in areas of the city where he saw other gay couples I was nearly as affectionate as I was at home. The UW campus was more of a grey area. Sometimes I would reach for him, and other times I would pull away. He followed my lead, although I could tell it was confusing for him. Ever since he verbally undressed that kid in the art studio, I felt safe holding Edward when we worked there, so the studio became a haven.

Other public places seemed nearly off limits. The gym was one. We would go and work out several times a week, lifting weights or running on the treadmills. I always gave him a wide berth there and he respected that, for the most part. The hardest was when I was spotting him on the bench press. With my groin in his sight line, I would catch him staring. I won't lie. I loved him looking at the subtle outline on my dick through my shorts, and I didn't shy away from it. In fact, there were times I would get extra close just to tempt him.

One afternoon we were sitting in the steam room, surrounded by a thick cloud of moisture. We were alone, the gym fairly empty at that time of the day. Sitting close to each other, I got hard just thinking about how he had watched me while I spotted him just a few minutes earlier. My towel started to tent and the fabric bothered me, so I removed it. Edward looked over at me and saw my state. Without a thought, he reached over and started stroking me. His towel fell away as he scooted closer to get a better grip on me, so I reached for his cock and started to kiss him. The mixture of steam and sweat created lubrication, and we quickly wanked each other toward mutual release. Even if someone had walked in, I wouldn't have stopped what I was doing. It felt natural, and nothing would have kept me from giving Edward that pleasure. Wasn't that what steam rooms were made for?

Even after the fiasco at Eclipse, I felt like my experience there gave me something to hold on to. A gift of freedom. Watching how openly affectionate the guys were in that environment reminded me of the beautiful boys kissing on campus. I had to make the world a place where showing Edward my love was acceptable. That was _my_ responsibility, and as the leaves changed their color from green to orange, gold, red and brown, I changed my colors too. I went from a scared gay man to a proud gay man. It was a transformation I felt from the inside, filling me with contentment and joy.

The best gift from this process was how it changed my relationship with Edward. We had a new openness, and I felt a sense of security like I had never felt before. I became more confident in the bedroom and was more assertive.

But a week later, another note appeared on my truck when it was parked at school, and it slowly started to erode my sanctuary. As I walked toward my blue beauty, I saw paper rustling in the breeze under the wiper. Immediately, I felt my stomach tighten, bile filling the back of my throat.

What now?

Why now?

_HE'LL KNOW_

So, whoever had a vendetta out for me was going to try to either blackmail me, or simply expose me. I didn't know which, but I was getting tired of the games. Sure, I was ashamed of what I had done at _Broke Straight Dudes_, but it sure as hell didn't warrant this sort of shit. I was getting God damned anxious for the next note, or the exposure, to happen. Sitting around waiting was getting on my nerves.

The one person I didn't want to see the video was Edward. I knew it would hurt him. He didn't need to see me getting fucked by James, especially since he hadn't done so himself.

I wanted to remedy that, but I had to tell him how badly I wanted it first. I wanted to bottom, but Edward seemed so content in how things were playing out that I didn't know how to talk to him about it, especially now with this new threat. Just coming out and telling him I wanted him to fuck me didn't feel like something I could do, because I knew he was getting what he needed from me. The tranquility I saw in him as I filled him let me know how important this was to him. Right now, I was content to be with him in any way I could, and I wasn't about to risk what we had.

For the first time in my life, I felt whole in a relationship, but I feared what would happen when my stalker exposed me. Someday, I would talk to Edward about my worries and tell him the whole truth, but right now I needed to savor every moment I had with him, allowing him to show me pleasure in his way. I just hoped I was giving him as much contentment as he was giving me.

* * *

**Edit: 2/5/2012**


	13. Skulls & Blood

**Skulls & Blood**

"No one's gonna know who we are," I said, looking over my Halloween costume, wondering how Edward ever talked me into wearing it.

"No, Jasper, no one's gonna know who_ I _am, but everyone'll know who _you_ are. You'll be fine. Besides, you look hot it blue spandex, so quit complaining. Your eyes are bluer than I've ever seen." He stalked toward me like a hungry predator in the front yard of Alice and Bella's new house. It was Halloween, and we arrived as superheroes.

I felt ridiculous and over-exposed, especially after Edward's hands had traced over my chest, around to my ass, and down my thighs. "We're going to have to wait outside a bit longer, Edward, because now I'm sporting wood!" I said, pointing to my very obvious problem. "I'm not sure wearing spandex around you was a good idea. Fuck, I get hard every few minutes when you're near. So, if we're going to be in there around all those people with me in this, you have to refrain from touching me, okay?" I said pointedly, voice rising with every phrase spoken.

Seeing the mischief in his eyes, I knew I was doomed.

Due to my cock saluting the world, I wouldn't need a codpiece; mine was simply built in because of Edward's presence. As I tried to calm myself, I noticed he was having a similar problem, but his black costume hid it better. The white around his face and shoulders actually drew your eyes up and away from his Edward-made codpiece.

_Why the hell did we decide to do this? Why didn't we just come as Burt and Ernie, or even fucking fairies?_ If he wanted to come as gay icons, that would have been much simpler.

"No more touching," I said with bitterness in my voice.

"Okay, okay," he held his hands up in surrender. "I was just going to hold your hand. Now, are we going inside or are we going to freeze our assess off out here? Of course, the cold air seems to be helping with my problem; how about you?"

"Yes, it helps. Come on, let's go," I said, impatiently grabbing his hand, dragging him toward the porch. "It's really a nice house, but can you imagine having a house warming party a week after you moved? Alice is crazier than I thought."

As we walked toward the house, it was difficult to make out much beyond the bright windows and lit up front door, due to the dark autumn night that surrounded us. I could tell we were walking up to a three-story Victorian decorated with gingerbread-like scallops, rosettes, and scrollwork. I grabbed the newel post as we walked up the stairs and noticed it's smooth, hand rubbed feel beneath my palm. I wondered when it was built. Now that we were closer, I could see the house was painted in greens and blue. I was sure it was beautiful in the daylight.

Edward reached out to ring the doorbell and I groaned internally, positive we'd be explaining our costumes all night. Maybe they would just accept we were two superheroes and we wouldn't have to go into Edward's convoluted story. _Again, why did I agree to this?_

Alice answered the door dressed as a naughty schoolgirl, wearing a blue plaid miniskirt, a white button down shirt tied at her waist, and white knee-high stockings. Bella quickly joined her in greeting us dressed as a librarian, black glasses sitting low on her nose, and pencils stuck through her tight bun. "Come in guys," they said in harmony, with Alice playing the soprano.

As they looked us up and down, I immediately felt self-conscious. How much ogling were we going to get? "So, who are you?" Alice asked. I rolled my eyes.

It had begun.

I had been dreading this party for days. I'm sure the apprehension was all tied up in the blue spandex hugging my entire body.

"Well, you probably recognize Jasper as Iceman, and I'm Northstar, the first openly gay superhero who pined for Iceman, only to be rejected," he finished with a pout before leaning in to kiss me. "Good thing that isn't how things turned out for us, at least not anymore."

Boner alert! That was all it took—a fucking kiss! I pushed my way past the entryway and followed Bella who was leading us into the house. Walking into a surprisingly modern great room, I made my way into the kitchen and stood behind the counter, desperately trying to disguise my problem.

"Can I get you a beer?" Bella offered.

"Sure. You have a beautiful home. It looks like you got settled fast," I remarked.

"Well, you know Alice. She has the energy of a hummingbird. I couldn't have stopped her if I tried, but it feels good to be unpacked and to have people coming over."

"I bet," I said, remembering my last move into Edward's house and how it took me weeks to fully unpack. We hadn't had company for at least a month, and when we did, it finally felt like the house was broken in.

We were the first to arrive, so Alice started showing us around their house while Bella trailed along, adding commentary every now and then. I explored with my eyes while Edward took the physical tour. The great room was basically divided into four rooms, the kitchen, dining room, living room, and a nice sized study. The living room and study were against the west wall lined with large windows. A mix of ultra modern furniture designs with antiques in various wood tones gave the great room a warm, eclectic feel. The dining room table, filled with bite-sized morsels and large buckets filled with ice and beer, had been pushed against the kitchen island.

With the first floor tour over, Edward joined me, resting his back on the counter, his hip touching mine, and looked at me with mischief. "It happened again, didn't it?" he whispered, knowing full well I'd been hard, once again. Thank God, the cold temperature of the granite countertop made moving possible again.

I ignored his question and looked around the room at the Halloween decorations. As usual, Alice and Bella had outdone themselves. Not only were they completely moved in without a box in sight, but nearly every surface of the house was filled with skulls, bones, or blood—in the form of liquid or fabric—tonight's theme. Perhaps I fit in better than I thought with my reappearing boner. Since we were the first to arrive and had beers in hand, the girls started to bustle around, making their final preparations.

My eyes scanned the living room and settled on a huge, red skull and crossbones that hung on their wall. The fabric it was cut from made it shimmer in the candle light, almost giving it a liquid appearance. It was the exact image that Edward had on his red underwear, the underwear he wore the day my underwear fetish started. That image had the same effect on me as it did that day. I was rock hard again. _Would I ever get my woody to go away?_

I turned around, grabbed Edward's hand, and led him upstairs to the third floor, not knowing where we would end up. Opening a small door, we walked into a moonlit, circular room that must have been in the turret of the house. Edward walked into the center of the nearly empty room, and I closed the door. Walking behind him, I unzipped his costume and watched as it fell around his ankles, exposing his naked ass.

Oh. My. God. He was wearing a jock strap. He turned to me and I dropped to my knees.

"Are you okay, Jasper?" he said with concern, kneeling down in front of me in a flash.

"I … no way … jockstrap … get off … now," I stammered, not really knowing what I was trying to say, so many thoughts going through my head.

He laughed at me, tracing my jaw as he made me look in his eyes. "Do you want my jockstrap off? Do you want to get off? Or both?" He smirked at me, teasing and taunting.

"All three," I said stupidly. "Now, or I'm going to be hard the entire night. Please," I begged, not caring that all my dignity was left at home in the hamper with my button fly jeans and green sweater.

Without a second thought, he kissed me as he unzipped my costume and slowly pushed it from my shoulders, my arms, and finally past my hips. My tight briefs quickly joined my costume as I allowed my hands to roam over the strong muscles in his back and over the rise and fall of his bare ass. I slipped the jock strap over his hips and eased his hard cock out of the fabric, allowing the underwear to fall to his knees.

He wrapped his long fingers around my length and gave me a gentle squeeze before he started stroking me. Imitating his movements, I continued to kiss him, rubbing him to the cadence he chose.

I couldn't believe we were kneeling in Alice and Bella's turret jerking each other off because I couldn't keep from getting a hard on every few minutes. As the reality of the situation sank in, I started to laugh into Edward's mouth.

"What's so funny," he asked.

"Are you kidding me? What's so funny? Christ, I'm so fucking horny I can't tame the monster, and now, we're up here wanking each other off. Am I fifteen?"

"No … No … Don't be embarrassed. We should've done this before we left, then you wouldn't have had this problem," he gasped, obviously enjoying himself.

"Good … okay … good," I groaned. "This is really good." I reached toward him with my free hand and started to massage and tug on his balls. I spread my knees further apart so I wouldn't lose my balance while Edward did the same.

He rested his head on my chest while I breathed in the intense scent of his hair. Pulling his free hand away from my back, he put a finger in his mouth before he reached between us, touching the head of my cock to gather the liquid seeping from me, and slid his hand between my legs. He gently eased his lubed finger into me, slowly thrusting in the same rhythm he stroked my cock, gradually getting faster.

He lifted his face, resting his forehead on mine and looked straight into my eyes. Staring back at him, my eyes betrayed the intensity and bliss I was feeling. His hot, uneven breath washed over me as I lost myself in his touch. His gaze changed to one of determination.

"Stand up, Jas," he demanded before I pulled myself to my feet, using his shoulders as support. Without losing a beat, he took the head of my cock in his mouth and started to swirl his tongue around me. All of his attention was focused on the head and under the ridge, while his hand pumped up and down my length. His tongue teased and sucked my ultra-sensitive skin, urging me to step over the ledge.

"Do you want to come yet, Jas?" he asked.

"No. Not yet, babe," I admitted, shaking my head, not wanting the moment to be over.

He grinned at me with one side of his mouth, looking devilish.

I looked down at his chest and saw his erect nipples calling, so I brushed across his tender flesh, causing him to pull away from me slightly. Pulling his mouth off of me, allowing my cock to bob, and then taking the head back into his mouth again, he played with me, watching me, teasing me, making me want more. My head fell forward and a breathy groan escaped between my teeth. Taking me fully into his mouth, he slid his lips along me, tightening as he neared the top. Sucking me with more ferocity than before, his finger pushed further in to me, and just when I felt my release nearing the horizon, he curled his finger, massaging my prostate, forcing me to let go. The intensity of my orgasm caused me to cry out, my whole body becoming rigid, and I was glad we were on the third floor, away from guests and our hosts. He continued stroking me and sucking my cock as I rode out the waves of my orgasm.

Pulling him up to me, I reached between our bodies to return the favor, but just as I was about to kneel before him he stopped me. "No, Jasper. That was about you, not me." I looked at him with skepticism, trailing my tongue from the hollow of his neck to his chin. I felt his stubble rub against me and by the time I met his mouth, my own was eager and anxious. My tongue darted out and was met by his. He sucked my bottom lip and bit me as I reached for his dick.

I focused all of my attention on the beautiful cock in my hand and began to stroke it. Without realizing how I got there, I was down on my knees, mouth watering, and slipping his cock between my anxious lips. His taste and scent overwhelmed me before I quickly found a rhythm with my hand and mouth, working him toward a hasty, yet satisfying, climax. Looking up at him through my lashes, I saw him throw his head back and call out my name in ecstasy. Now a master, I took him deep, burying him in my throat. Only a few more strokes, and he released his salty seed down my throat, and I swallowed every drop. Smiling up at him, I could see he was weak in the knees, so I pulled him back down so we were face to face.

We leaned into each other, supporting the other's weight as we came down from our individual euphorias. Sliding my hands over his backside, I felt the heat coming off his body. He pulled me close, rubbing his chest against mine as I melted into his skin. I wanted to stay like this all night, but we needed to return to the party. Resisting responsibility, I nuzzled further into him, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist.

Eventually, Edward stood up and slipped his jock strap back over his gorgeous ass and cock. Reluctantly, I followed suit and reached for my underwear. We were both quickly dressed in our costumes and helping each other zip when we heard a knock at the door.

"Edward? Jasper? Are you in here?" It was Alice.

"Yeah, cous." The door opened as Edward spoke and an unusually pensive Alice peeked in. "We were just giving ourselves a tour. What's this room going to be used for? It's great! I love that it has no straight lines, but it could make furniture placement more of a challenge."

He was a great bullshitter. I was relieved, physically, since I no longer had a raging hard on, and mentally, because I knew I could walk around in my costume with confidence now. Life was good.

Ignoring Edward's question completely, Alice said, "Come on down, guys. People are coming." She turned and left as Edward and I smirked at each other. If only she knew.

#

Arriving downstairs, I saw Rosalie and Emmett and made my way over to them. They were dressed as Victorian era vampires, both of them in ruffles, velvet, and lace. Emmett looked a bit put out, that is, until he saw what Edward and I were wearing.

"Well, well, well," Emmett greeted us, rubbing his hands together in glee. "My gay boys decided to dress as gay superheroes." He pulled me into his chest with a meaty hand and kissed me on top of the head."

"For the record," I corrected, "Iceman is straight."

"Yeah, I know, but Northstar was in love with him. Life imitating art, I see. Well, sort of. You better not be trying to go back to straight, man, and hurt Edward. I'll kick your ass … or Rosie will, right beautiful?" he pulled my sister close on his other side.

"Hi Rosalie." I leaned across Emmett's body to give her a kiss. "Your costume is great. It's nice to see you could get Emmett out of polyester and spandex and into some lace. He looks so pretty," I teased, pulling myself away from Emmett's grasp so I could talk to my sister.

"He does look nice, doesn't he? I just hope he bites me tonight before getting rid of the fangs." She smirked and kissed Emmett, who was now talking to Edward.

Rosalie led me into the kitchen and we each opened a beer. "So, how have things with you and Edward been going? I've barely spoken to you."

"Things are great." I couldn't keep from smiling a big goofy grin. "I don't think I've ever been happier, Rose. Every morning when I wake up with him, I feel like I'm dreaming. It's … I don't even know how to explain. It's like I'd been hiding my feelings for years, and now that I've admitted them, I'm remembering things from when we were kids. These feelings have always been inside me, I just never knew it. I've loved him for years."

"I don't think I've ever seen you this content, Jasper," she said with a genuine smile I'd never see her use when talking to me about past girlfriends. "You look like the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders."

"I feel like it … except for Dad, of course, but that'll come in time," I said, dreading the day. "But, I'm not here to think about that; I'm here to party and have a good time. Let's go mingle," I changed the subject, pulling her into the living room and rejoining Edward, slipping my hand around his waist.

We spent some time moving around the room, talking to people we knew, as well as meeting a few new friends of Alice and Bella's. After a few hours of drinking, dancing, and chatting, I realized I hadn't thought once about the affection I was showing Edward. It was coming naturally. I was spontaneously kissing Edward and pulling him close to me. He would reach for me, pushing my hair back, holding my hand, and letting his hands wander a bit, but never too close so I had a repeat performance of earlier.

We were dancing to some techno, eighties music in the dining room with Ben and Angela, who had come as Jack Skellington and Sally, when we noticed Angela was sporting a new diamond. When telling us about their wedding plans for June, we were joined by Mike Newton and Jessica, my ex-girlfriend. They arrived as Wolverine and Jean Grey. All we needed was Dr. Xavier and the X-Men would've felt complete.

Mike started telling us about his internship at a local advertising agency. He sounded really excited about it, and I was positive he would be good for the job. Being a relentless guy, I was sure he could land accounts simply through his tenacity, hanging around like a lost puppy until he got a sale. Edward and I met Mike as freshmen in an Intro to Art class and we'd become fast friends. While he took more of the business route, he was still a great artist.

"I'll have to show you guys something later. I helped land this huge account and they let me lead on the designs. You guys would love it. Later though," he said, leaning in to kiss Jessica with a smile. I didn't feel the slightest bit of jealousy as their lips met, even though she was my ex-girlfriend. In fact, I felt nothing except the desire to kiss Edward.

Before I could follow through on my wish, Edward's lips were already on mine. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, his hands at my lower back as we danced. Our kisses, slow and soft at first, deepened, and I pulled him closer to me, my fingers fisting his silky hair.

Desperate kisses.

Passionate kisses.

I couldn't get enough of his mouth on mine; his taste, smooth tongue, and supple lips caused not only my heart to race, but my dick to throb. I reluctantly pulled away from him, sighing. I rested my forehead to his, running my finger down his cheek, tracing his jaw and his lips, ripe from our kisses. Sliding his hands down my back, he gently traced the curve of my ass, pulling me tightly to him. I didn't want him to let me go, feeling his heat against my chest, making me wish even more that we were home alone where I could worship him, bathing him in my love.

The spandex we both wore created little friction, my dick hardening with every subtle brush of Edward's hips and our cocks slid easily against each other. He must have felt my excitement, because he pulled his hips back and chuckled, looking down.

"I know. I know," I said, defensively. I leaned in and whispered in a low voice, "I can't wait to get you home so I can fuck you so hard you can't walk tomorrow."

"Is that a promise?" he asked with a glint in his eye.

"Yes, Edward. I promise you," I stated out loud, licking my lips, before I walked into the kitchen to get another beer. It was my turn to tease him.

"Oh, Jasper. I need you," Alice bounded toward me, carrying something in her hand. "Here, I found this sitting in the kitchen earlier. It has your name on it. Did you drop it?"

"No, what is it," I asked as I reached for her hand. There was a note, folded in fourths, my name written on spiral bound paper. I felt Edward come up behind me, hearing him say my name softly. I slowly opened the note, hoping it wasn't what I thought it was.

_THEY'LL ALL KNOW._

Just like the last three notes, it was written in all capital letters, my name on the front in the same handwriting, and when I read it, my heart dropped from my chest.

I heard Edward speaking, but it took me a few moments to catch up to him. He was asking Alice if we could go upstairs, and the next thing I knew, he was leading me into a small bedroom on the second floor.

"Jasper, how did you get this?" he asked with anger and concern in his voice.

"Alice found it and just gave it to me." I ran my hands through my hair, fingers grabbing on tight as hair slowly slid through. I was a bit shocked that one of my friends was the fucking stalker. Running through a mental list, I couldn't think of a single person who would stoop to this sort of subterfuge. I scanned the room, searching it as if I could find the answers there before looking back into Edward's sullen face.

"So, you've gotten two notes from the same person, and that person is obviously here. So who is it? And why would they be trying to out you when you're clearly out, kissing me in front of everyone here?" He paced back and forth across the rug while I sat on the soft bed watching him. "It doesn't make any sense. It's obvious you're gay. 'I know' and 'They'll all know.' Do you have any idea what's going on here, Jasper?"

His eyes bored into mine, and I knew I had to tell him the truth. I wasn't sure why I didn't tell him the truth from the start, but I could fix that now. He needed to know.

I needed him to know.

I held up the note, "This is actually my fourth note, Edward." He looked hurt, almost like I had betrayed him.

"Tell me what the other notes said," he demanded.

"The first note was the web address to my video at _Broke Straight Dudes_. The second note you saw, the one that said 'I know'. The third note said, 'He'll know.' I assume that means you."

"God, Jasper, why didn't you tell me? You should have told me about this."

"I didn't want to stress you out, so I kept it to myself, but now it's obvious I should've said something. I'm sorry."

"Who the fuck is doing this?"

"I don't know, but there isn't really anything we can do about it. Believe me, I've thought about this a lot. Let's just go back downstairs, okay? Honestly, if something is going to happen, I just want it to happen so I can be done with it. I'm sick of this fucking suspense. So, let them tell," I said in a huff, leaving the room and charging down the stairs. That's when I heard it.

That's when everyone heard it.

"_Jasper, go ahead and suck his cock," Jake said._

_"Okay," I said, quietly._

Wet, sucking sounds enveloped the great room, echoing off the glass windows and the stainless steel appliances. James was letting out breathy gasps, rolling back his head with his mouth wide open.

I watched from the bottom step as the people stared at a large computer monitor, shocked expressions on their faces.

Edward stood next to me, arms around my waist, kissing my temple. "I love you, Jasper, no matter what. Nothing will ever change that. I respect you, and this doesn't change a thing," he spoke to me in soft, calming tones, almost as if he were singing, soothing my nerves.

I was in shock, frozen in place. Time stopped and sped up at the same time. I felt like I had left my body, floating away, but still felt my feet planted firmly on the step.

The monitor was filled with the image of me giving James a blow job. He was leaning against the armrest of the futon, while most of my body lay across the mattress. I watched as my head bobbed up and down and the camera came in for a close up of my mouth wrapped around his ugly cock. When the camera pulled out I could see James jerking me off while I continued to lick and suck him into my mouth.

Nausea washed over me, and I tasted the sickening, bitter taste rise to the back of my throat.

_"Let's get to some fucking, okay? Jasper, are you ready to have his dick inside you?" Jake's voice was condescending, and I could hear delight in his tone._

_"Yeah, let's get this over with." I heard myself dejectedly say._

Edward left my side, rushing toward the group of people gathered around the monitor. I saw everyone focused on the action.

There was a quick jump cut and the futon was now pulled out into a bed. I was on all fours and James was behind me, slowly pushing his cock inside me. The camera moved closer to my ass, as James pushed into me, then the camera panned to my face. At first, I looked like I was in pain, but then, I smiled.

A path was opened up as Edward passed through the crowd, revealing Mike sitting in front of the computer. The chair was spun around and I saw Edward's strong hands grab Mike's costume and lift him from his seat.

_"How does it feel, Jasper? Do you like it?" I could hear Jake ask._

_"Not bad," I admitted, grinning._

Returning from the bathroom and realizing what was happening, Alice leapt from the back of the room, climbing over people, and quickly turned the monitor off.

I met my sister's eyes. They were haunted. I tried to move my feet, to go to her and explain, but they were stuck, unable to move. Emmett held Rosalie and slowly looked from me back to her.

James and I continued moaning, the sound piercing through the utter quiet in the room.

Speakers were ripped from the computer and thrown across the room.

"What the fuck are you doing, Newton?" Edward spat as all eyes moved to him. "You have no fucking right, you fucking asshole. Jasper's your friend." I could see tears glinting in his eyes, even from as far away as I stood.

Getting no response from Mike, he continued shouting. "Do you think this is funny, you fucking hypocrite? Like you weren't the one who told him about this? Like you didn't do it yourself? Should we show everyone your videos?" Edward was shaking, trying to hold in his rage so he wouldn't hurt Mike.

"I didn't get fucked in the ass, man," Mike laughed, looking around the room for support and finding none. "I didn't get turned into a fucking fag. That just can't happen to me," he said fearfully. "Jasper's the one who liked getting his pansy ass rammed by a giant cock so much that he became a fucking fag."

Edward drew back his arm and let it fly, punching him in the jaw. Mike staggered and fell to the ground. "He's a fairy, and that's not going to happen to me!" Mike slurred. "He's not gay for pay, he's just a fucking faggot."

Edward picked him up by the collar, nearly cutting off his air supply before his second, third, and fourth blows landed. Blood spilled out of Mike's mouth, pooling on the hardwood floor, a bruise quickly forming around his eye. He slowly started to stand, rubbing his jaw.

Alice started hitting Mike over the head and shrieked, "You stupid, fucking moron. Who the fuck do you think you are? You've been friends with gay people for years. Now you think you're being recruited?"

People looked at Mike with disgust and started talking in low murmurs, giving him a wide berth as he tried to move.

My feet thawed and I started moving toward Edward. I wanted to be with him, in case Mike tried to do something even more foolish, but Jessica stopped me. She had an ugly smirk painted on her twisted face as she started shoving me backward toward the living room. My heel hit an area rug causing me to lose my balance and land on the armrest of the couch. I opened my mouth to speak, only to be cut off.

"You couldn't have just broken up with me like a normal boyfriend, could you Jasper?" she sneered. I felt the attention of everyone shift toward us. "You had to go and publicly humiliate me, turning into a fucking queer and flaunting it all over campus so all my sorority sisters would see you kissing that fairy," she pointed at Edward.

"You'd better watch yourself, Jess," I threatened. "Leave Edward out of this. It's between you and me."

Edward yanked Mike by the back of the shirt over to the living room, plopping his woozy body next to Jessica on the couch. I stood next to Edward as he reached for my hand.

"Do you seriously think getting fucked one time on that God damned futon would make Jasper miraculously gay?" Edward shouted at both of them.

"We were happy until Jasper went there," Jessica declared.

"We were never happy, Jessica," I bellowed. "I could barely get it up with you. Didn't that ever make you wonder? No woman was doing it for me. I just didn't understand it yet. And you, Mike … are you afraid gay is contagious. Are you afraid you're the next one to come out of the closet?"

Mike and Jess looked at each other and then back at Edward and me, faces blank and emotionless.

"This had nothing to do with you, Jessica. This had nothing to do with you, Mike," I said emphatically. "I don't see why you turned this into your issue. So, I let some guy fuck me and got paid for it." I looked around the room, my hands upturned as my gaze moved from face to face before returning to the pair in front of me. "Now they all know, just like you wanted, right? Does that make you happy? And Edward knows, but he's known for months. I told him right before I came out to him. Ooooo. The big secret is revealed."

I looked directly at Jessica who now looked terrified, "And do you want to know why I did it, Jessica? Any idea what would make me go to that place after _your_ boyfriend told me about it? I did it because I was gonna have to drop out of school without the money. I would've been a handful of classes away from graduating and getting a job. Does that make it less despicable in your eyes?"

She started to speak but I leaned in, my forehead pressed against hers, "I don't fucking care what you think, you God damned bitch!"

"You and Newton have been leaving me cryptic notes, trying to intimidate me for long enough." I pulled back, pacing beside the couch. "But that video has nothing to do with you … nothing to do with Mike … nothing to do with me being gay. I'm gay, plain and simple, and all of your intimidation tactics did _nothing_ to change that. Fuck! Your self importance is legendary."

"If you thought Edward would leave me because of this, think again. If you thought I would be ashamed in front of my friends, think again. If you thought my true friends would think less of me because of this, think again." Heads shook in support all around the room. "And if you thought for even one second that this foolish bullshit would cause me to leave Edward and come crawling back to you, you're even more stupid than I thought."

I turned to walk between the couch and the coffee table to get a drink when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Jessica was on her feet, coming at me head first. "Fucking faggot!" she screamed.

Flying sideways, I landed on top of the coffee table with all her weight landing on my side. A livid Rosalie pulled her off me and I rolled to my back as I saw the back of Emmett's head as he carried Mike away.

Edward was kneeling beside me, hollering for someone to call an ambulance. I was fine. I simply fell. When I moved to stand a sharp pain ripped through my side, under my ribs. Wetness spread across my left side as I rested on my back.

"911 … ambulance … doctor … hospital," I heard people shouting, as activity amplified in the room.

"It's going to be okay, Jasper. Someone called 911," he whispered.

"Here Edward, towels," Alice cried. I felt the weight of fabric being draped below my ribs and a hand pressing down.

"What's going on?" I asked. "Why is everyone so freaked out?"

Edward leaned over me, singing softly in my ear and combing his fingers through my hair. His body rocked back and forth, lulling me with his motion.

Pressing a towel to me with her tiny hand, Alice pulled her cell phone from her pocket and dialed. "Carlisle, Jasper's been hurt. He's going to the hospital by ambulance … He was shoved into a glass coffee table and is losing a lot of blood … left side … mmhmm … we'll see you there."

I heard sirens far off in the distance.

Edward leaned back, cupping my jaw in his hand so I could see him. Tears streamed down his cheeks, staining his beautiful face. I reached up to wipe them away when everything disappeared but the sound of his voice.

"I love you, Jasper. They're almost here. Don't leave me. I'm with you."

Then he was gone.

* * *

**Edit: 2/5/2012**


	14. Blood & Coffee

**Blood & Coffee**

"Get me a blanket," I hollered over my shoulder and was quickly given a soft fleece that Bella unfurled and draped over Jasper's unconscious body. Reaching for his neck, I found his pulse, quick and erratic. I knelt close to his mouth and heard and felt his breath, shallow but steady. Pushing up my sleeves, I got to work.

"I can't stop the bleeding, Edward," Alice cried, her face full of worry.

"The ambulance is almost here. Bella, bring the paramedics." She disappeared as I continued giving what little first aid I could. Even though he was lying on sharp pieces of broken glass, I was afraid of moving Jasper, but the bleeding not being staunched worried me more. Alice's arms were shaking from the pressure she was putting on his wound, so I shifted to his left side and tried to take over.

That's when I saw it. Running under Jasper's ribs and along his side was a huge gash blood seemed to be pouring from. I quickly pressed a clean, dry towel to the wound and passed the drenched one to Alice, blood running down my arms.

I leaned over Jasper's pale face and continued to sing a song from my childhood that was circulating in my head for some strange reason.

_There was a dog, he loved to sing  
__And the joy of his music, to all he would bring.  
__He sang all day and he sang all night  
__While everyone danced in the pale moonlight.*_

Every few bars I'd stop and tell him how much I loved him and that he needed to come back to me. I kissed his forehead and pressed on his wound. Running my fingers through his golden curls, I left streaks of blood in his hair. His skin felt cold and clammy under my blood-covered hands. With each stroke of my fingers, I left behind a line of blood, textured by the subtle impression my fingerprints left behind.

"Don't leave me Jasper. I can't live without you. Come back to me," I begged.

A large, warm hand settled on my shoulder, and I looked up to see a paramedic looking over Jasper's body. "He was pushed into this glass table and has a deep wound we can't get under control."

Alice grabbed my elbow and pulled me away, wrapping her arms around my chest. I leaned against her as the room disappeared and I was lost in his face, trying to will him awake. The paramedics checked his vitals and then placed an oxygen mask over his beautiful mouth. His wound was covered and they called me back over to him to keep putting pressure on the gash. They started an IV, put a C-collar around his neck, and placed him on a backboard. Jasper was lifted onto a gurney covered with a snow-white sheet. Almost immediately, crimson pooled below him. I followed them out the door to the waiting ambulance, lights flashing against the hovering tree limbs.

Rosalie was there waiting, her face awash with worry. "Go, Edward. Go with him," she choked, burying her face in Emmett's chest.

I waited for Jasper to be secured and then moved toward the bus but was stopped by the paramedic. "Are you family?"

"I'm his partner," I said, wary that wouldn't be good enough.

"Someone said his sister was here," he said, scanning the gathering crowd.

Rosalie raised her head to speak. "I want Edward to be with him." I gave her a look of thanks, trying to smile.

The paramedic helped me up, and I took my place next to Jasper, holding his hand in mine.

"You did a good job applying pressure. Keep it up." I was handed supplies and quickly put gloves on. Opening the gauze bandages, I placed the thick wad over his wound and pushed into Jasper's side as the paramedics continued to work and report to the hospital—which was expecting us in about three minutes. His blood saturated the fabric. My gloves slipped against the wetness.

Kissing his hand, I kept singing that ridiculous song like a mantra, trying to will him back. I held his hand and pressed my lips to his knuckles, telling him how much I loved him.

The lights of the emergency room came into view and I leaned against the wall of the ambulance as the paramedics unloaded my true love. I watched them take him from me, not knowing if he'd live or die. I saw my father's blond head but was unable to move from my seat.

"Let's go, Edward. We need to get you inside," he said in a soothing, gentle voice. He led me through hallways that could have been secret passages if they weren't so white and sterile.

Cold, white walls.

Cold, white linoleum.

Cold, white lights.

As we walked, my father tried to reassure me. "He's being examined, but from what Alice told me on the phone, I wouldn't doubt it if he were in surgery within the next few minutes. I'm going to go check on him. I'll send a message as soon as I know something. I'll go to the O.R. with him and do everything I can." And with that, he left me in the crowded waiting room, the double doors closing with a loud, ominous click.

I shivered as I looked around. Jasper wasn't the only one with bad luck that Halloween. Walking forward, I saw my mother with a large blue blanket, ready to wrap me up as soon as I was within arm's reach. Her eyes were full of tears and worry.

Rose made her way across the room, pulling me into her, comforting me. I slid my arms around her waist and pulled her tight, feeling her sob into my shoulder. I saw Emmett over in the corner talking to a police officer. Alice and Bella were sitting in a line of blue chairs, looking at me expectantly.

A nurse approached. "Jasper's headed to surgery. He's bleeding from his spleen so they have to remove it," she said. Rose pulled away and went to tell the other women.

I sat down in front of a coffee vending machine. A double mocha poured into a thin styrofoam cup for someone and the transparent door slid open. Bodies came and went, imbibing on the life-giving liquid.

The next one was mine. Dark roast, cream and sugar. I sipped the steaming liquid, burning my upper lip and the tip of my tongue. It felt good. It felt like _something_.

Everything else was numbed, frozen in a state of shock …

from the things I had heard …

… seen …

… felt …

… done.

My head felt light and heavy at the same time, like I wanted it to float away, find someplace else to exist for a while, but it was too heavy to lift off.

_Triple hazelnut latte._

I didn't know how things got out of control so fast. One minute we were talking—okay, yelling—and the next there was blood everywhere. Red spilling from his side. Life pouring out of him. His face was white, his lips pale.

He reached for me, and then he was gone. I needed to let him know I'd be here when he came back, so I talked and sang, just so he would know where I was.

_Single decaf, black._

How did I not see this coming? _I KNOW._ I didn't think it was about his video. I didn't know. I just didn't think, that's the problem! I was so caught up in the euphoria I was feeling with Jasper that I didn't have my eyes open to the possibilities. I buried my head in the sand, hid away from the part of the world that didn't accept us. I closed my eyes to signs that were there. Jessica and Mike showed their true colors the night Jasper came out. How had I overlooked that? Because of my negligence, he was nearly killed.

_Double vanilla latte._

Fuck! What if he dies? He lost so much fucking blood. How could he survive after he covered the floor in crimson? I couldn't live without him. Never without Jasper, especially now that I knew what it was like.

He was so much more.

We were so much more.

He made_ me_ so much more.

_Single dark roast, sugar._

Looking down at my hands I saw Jasper's blood. It had worked its way into each and every crevice on my knuckles, staining my cuticles, my nails, my skin. Turning my hand over, I saw my lifeline painted with his lifeblood.

So much blood.

My heart line had captured the darkest marks. It seemed only fitting that Jasper's blood be the dye that stained my heart. He had worked his way into every corner of my life, every fissure of my heart, transforming it, making it whole. He re-colored my world.

It had always been Jasper. No one else could ever have my heart. Others tried. I tried, but I could never give it away. I could never get past Jasper. I wanted him to be happy with me.

_Double cappuccino._

Silky curls, blue eyes, wide mouth, tender lips—I loved everything about him. I loved his fierce independence and his pride. I loved how he tried to protect me, even though I didn't need it.

I loved the way he touched me, how his fingers lingered over my body while his eyes traveled across my skin, taking me in, ever so slowly. I loved jealous Jasper and how forcefully he took me, making me his, showing me how desperate he was to keep me. I loved tender Jasper who would lay behind me, spent after making love, breathing across my neck, resting his hand on my chest, making me feel secure and whole. He made everything right.

_Single dark roast, black._

I wasn't able to protect him tonight. I wasn't able to protect him from a one hundred and twenty pound girl. Fuck! The words that came out of their mouths, the hate they spewed, it made me want to kill them. I had never wanted to hit a woman in my life, but tonight I came close. If Jasper hadn't been there telling her to fuck off, I don't know what I would have done.

Mike sat there looking at her with such a stupid look on his face, like he didn't know what was going on. Was he just a pawn in her game? What did he gain in this? Was exposing Jasper's video really helping him in any way? He was defensive, fearful he might by some chance "catch gay." Did Jessica put that in his head? Did she feed his fear for her own purpose? Was this really about her embarrassment? Was she so shallow she felt Jasper's sexuality reflected back on her, or did she love him?

_Triple hazelnut latte._

Rubbing my hands together, I relished in the feel of Jasper's blood on my skin. It made me feel connected to him as he lay in some sterile operating room, bright lights illuminating his pale skin, machines watching his every move. The texture of the red blood, slightly sticky like dried soap, reminded me of his presence. It felt good under my fingertips. Bringing my hand to my nose, I smelled the iron in his blood, the strength.

_Dark roast, cream and sugar._

It was being handed to me by a large hand, my first cup having been drained long ago. Emmett.

"The police want to talk to you," he interrupted my thoughts, "but they said tomorrow would be soon enough. They'll come here." I looked over my shoulder and nodded at the cop, silently telling him I'd be here before returning to touch the blood on my hands, my only physical reminder of Jasper.

"Edward, I found some scrubs for you to wear," my mom said, sitting in the chair next to me, putting the blue uniform in my lap. "I'm sure that costume is getting uncomfortable. Go to your father's office to change." I sat there. "Do you want someone to go with you?" Her voice was troubled, questioning if it would be safe for me to be alone.

"I'll be fine, mom. I'm just not sure how to get to his office from here," I said, looking around the unfamiliar waiting room. Despite sitting here staring, it looked all together foreign, like I had just walked in. The coffee machine, however, struck me as an old friend.

"Let's go. I'll show you the way," my mom offered. Stumbling slightly, I found my footing and followed her toward the double doors.

As we walked, I only registered scattered things in my surroundings; a wheelchair, a nurse, a railing. Turning a corner, I saw my father's door and walked in, leaving my mother in the hall. I stood there, looking around, forgetting why I was there until I saw the scrubs in my stained hands. Trying to remove my costume I realized I needed help with the zipper, so I opened the door to call my mom. Without a word, she closed the door behind her and eased the zipper down my back. Before I knew it, I was dressed in clean, blue cotton, not really recalling how I got there. My mother had neatly folded my costume, placing it in a nylon bag she pulled from her purse.

"Let's go get you cleaned up, get those hands washed," she encouraged, pulling me by the elbow toward the door.

Dragging my body back, I retreated. "No! I can't. I can't wash the blood away. It's all I have of him. I won't watch him swirl down a fucking drain. I need him to be with me, and this is the only way he can be right now."

She hesitated for only a moment as she studied the desperation on my face. "Okay, Edward. You don't have to wash it away. You keep it with you for as long as you need," she pacified me, leading me back toward the waiting room.

As we passed through the hallways, I looked at my arms, holding them out in front of me, rotating them left and right, examining the patterns left by Jasper's blood. As I turned my right palm up, I saw my arm was nearly covered to the elbow, trails running down my inner arm. On the left, blood had run from my wrist to my tricep, long lines streaking and falling off where I'm sure drops were left on the ground somewhere. My mother watched me as I scrutinized the designs on my flesh, regarding me with concern. Reaching out with my fingertips to trace the decorations, I felt closer to him, simply through touching what he left behind. It was like fine art painted on my skin.

Back in the waiting room, I sat back down in the chair I had vacated earlier, leaning forward, elbows on my knees, head hung while my stained arms rested between my legs.

_Single cappuccino._

My mother headed toward the nurses desk, asking if there was any news on Jasper's condition. Nothing. I twisted my neck to the right, watching the nurse's face, trying to read what she couldn't say. She was a professional; I read nothing, or she knew nothing, so there was no news to betray on her face.

How long had it been, two, three hours? I lost track of time.

Jackson Pollock. My left arm looked like a Pollock, or a Miro. Maybe a Kandinsky. Or maybe spin art you see at the fair. Maybe it looked like fucking nothing and I was simply trying to find answers in the delicate tracery seemingly etched into my skin.

Alice approached me. She had paper towels in hand, one wet, one dry. Reaching toward my hand she said, "Let me get this blood off you, Edward."

"NO!" I roared, pulling away so forcefully the row of chairs I was sitting on slid back several feet.

Her eyes were haunted as she raised her hands in surrender. My mother knelt in front of me, gently stroking my hair, pushing stray pieces off my forehead or tucking them behind my right ear. "No one's going to make you do anything Edward. She didn't know."

"I'm sorry, Edward. I understand," Alice whispered as she threw away the pristine towels.

Leaving the joined seats where they landed, I returned to my former position, studying the clean tiles below me.

Doors flew open and my father approached, dressed for the operating room.

I stood.

"He's in recovery. We had to take his spleen, as expected, but we were able to remove it through his wound so there will only be one wound. Glass from the table was imbedded in it. Somehow it punctured the skin, slipped under his ribs and lacerated his spleen without causing any major damage to the surrounding tissue. He lost a lot of blood—we're guessing between twenty to thirty percent—and then went into hypovolemic shock, so he's going to be getting blood and fluids. The laceration came together nicely, and I'm hoping it won't scar too badly. We did call in a plastic surgeon who used subcuticular sutures for the best result. Jasper most likely won't be conscious for the rest of the night and maybe into morning," my father reported in his doctor voice with everyone gathered. "I think we were able to catch things just in time. Thanks to your quick thinking and trying to stop his bleeding, we're having this happy conversation."

"When can I see him," I choked in relief, rubbing both of my hands along my inner arms.

"He's in recovery. The nurses are taking very good care of him. I made sure they knew who they had to answer to if there were any complaints," he joked, trying to get me to smile.

I wouldn't smile until I saw Jasper again.

"How long do you think we have to wait?" I was desperate to see him. An ache started to build in my chest and stomach. Now that I knew he wasn't lying there dead on the table, my body started to feel again. It began in my feet, which vibrated and not in a good way but like a rush of blood was coursing through my veins. It was going too fast. The sensation rushed up my legs, through my middle, down my arms, and straight to my head. When I felt it leave the crown of my head, I nearly fainted, stumbling backward and landing in my chair.

"When was the last time you ate?" my father asked.

"Uhm … I don't know. I've had coffee." I admitted. Grabbing my right hand, my father looked at the bloodied arm and into my eyes with unspoken understanding. He held it out in front of me and let it go, allowing it to rest in mid air. It tremored before me.

"Food and rest. You've had a stressful night. Edward needs something to eat. Too much caffeine. I already have a room set aside for Jasper. It's a private room with a couch in it for someone to spend the night with him. You guys," he said pointing at Rosalie, Esme, and me, "are going to have to fight it out. Now, who's getting the food? We don't need another patient in here tonight."

Emmett spoke up, "I'll head out."

My father told us the room number and we all headed to our respective places, Emmett to a restaurant, Rosalie, my mom, and me to Jasper's room, and Alice and Bella back to their house to get some rest so they could relieve us in the morning. I wouldn't be leaving until I saw him and had the chance to kiss him.

Jasper's room was huge. A long, smooth couch rested under a large window. At one end of the couch was a pile of sheets, blankets, and a pillow. My mother and Rose immediately started to cover the mattress, making it into the bed that one of us would sleep in tonight. On the other side of the bed, sat a pink, leatherette recliner. While it appeared to be comfortable, I'm sure it was no picnic to sleep in.

"You're going to sleep here Edward, and I won't take no for an answer," Rosalie demanded. "I'll take the chair. I'm sure I won't be sleeping much, but you have to sleep. You look like hell, and it's not just because you're covered in blood. Now lay down and catch a few winks before Em gets back. We'll wake you." I obediently laid down, covering myself with the white linens while my mom took the blue security blanket I'd been holding all night, folded it, and set it on my feet. Closing my eyes, I tried to rest, knowing full well I would want to be awake once Jasper made it to his room.

As my eyes closed, I was sure I wouldn't be able to relax enough to even rest, but I fell into a fitful sleep.

#

_Kneeling by the shore of the little river behind my childhood home, I was scrubbing my hands and arms, trying to remove the red paint I'd spilled while painting a canvas outside under the trees. Not able get it off, I rested my hands on the pebbled bottom of the riverbed to soak, feeling them getting colder by the second. Just as pain started to rip through my fingers, I felt hot hands cover them, warming them through. Strong arms enveloped me, holding me tight against a firm chest._

_I felt like I'd been here before. I?_

_Pulling my hands out of the icy water, drops fell from my fingertips until I raised my hands and water trailed back up my arms, falling to the ground at my elbows. I stood, not losing contact with the hot body as I leaned my head back to his shoulder. Relaxing into him, I sighed, enjoying the feel of his embrace, but wanting more. Turning my head so my lips could meet his skin, I sensed him disappear. Spinning around, searching, I found I was alone, red paint still covering my skin._

#

Sitting up quickly, my breathing was labored, gasps escaping between tightened vocal chords. My mother was at my side in seconds, wrapping me in her arms.

"What is it?" Her eyes were worried and fearful.

"Nothing mom," I dismissed, "just a variation on a recurring dream. I'm ok, really," I said when her skeptical look studied my face. "Give me a sec," I demanded, not wanting to pay the vision any attention.

Emmett walked in at the perfect time, Kentucky Fried Chicken in hand. I loved that man. He divvied the food among us, giving himself a larger portion, of course. While I didn't have much of an appetite, I knew my father was right about eating, so despite myself, I ate a few bites of popcorn chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy. The distraction the food provided was welcomed. I wondered if that was his intention all along.

I was very careful when eating, using my spork and not allowing any food to touch my hands. By this point, they had become something sacred. KFC wouldn't sully Jasper's motif.

Just as Emmett started cleaning up our food, a nurse entered Jasper's room and asked us to step out so they could get Jasper settled. Lining up in the hallway against the wall, we looked like second graders waiting to go to art class, anxious and excited.

Slowly wheeled down the hall, Jasper passed, color better, lips no longer as pale, but certainly not looking healthy. I reached for him, but they passed too quickly for me to touch his skin. The door to his room closed behind him and we heard low voices and rustling. After about five minutes, the door opened and we were finally invited back in.

Tentatively, I stepped into the room, anxious about the many tubes and wires attached to his body.

Heading toward the bed, I ran my hand across his hair, allowing my fingers to tangle in his flaxen curls. The blood had been washed away, or at least they attempted it. He looked so peaceful, like he had just fallen asleep, but I knew better, and I wouldn't be able to relax until I saw his blue eyes gazing into mine. Rosalie pulled the pink chair next to the bed and was holding Jasper's hand, playing with the red light of the oxygen monitor clipped around his index finger. Emmett stood behind her, running his hands up and down her back. Standing at the foot of the bed, my mother looked over all of us, making sure we were holding up and ready to step in if need be.

"Have you called your parents, Rose?" I asked before she nodded. "When are they coming to see him?"

"Mom's coming, but I'm not so sure about Dad." Probably just as well. I don't want Jasper's healing to be impeded because he's stressed.

"Any idea when she'll be here?" my mom asked. "She can stay at our house, if she'd like, or I suppose she can stay at your place, right Edward? It's closer to the hospital." I nodded. I saw no reason why that wouldn't work.

"It sounded like she'd try to get here later this morning. She figured there was nothing she could do while he was in surgery, so she decided to get a good night's sleep and take off in the morning. We're meeting her at the ferry so she doesn't have to drive in the city," Rosalie stated. I was a little surprised. If my child had been lying on an operating table, I would've driven all night to get to the hospital, but I wasn't Jasper's parents.

As I stood by Jasper's bed holding his hand and fingering his hair, my eyes slipped shut and I felt my body start to sway. Strong hands grabbed my shoulders, as Emmett led me toward my makeshift bed. Now that I knew Jasper was safe, my body seemed to be shutting down as exhaustion flooded me, drowning me in fatigue. Darkness surrounded me as soon as my head hit the pillow.

* * *

* The song Edward sang is The Animal Song by Chad & Terri Sigafus

**Edit: 2/5/2012**


	15. Momentary Revelations

**Momentary Revelations**

Tick

Tick

Tick

Every movement of the gears and cogs was felt in my chest like a weight. I could barely breathe. Every revolution of the red, needle-like hand tightened the coil inside my gut. Every tick I heard was a second I was away from him. I longed to be with him. I longed to touch him. My Jasper.

Tick

Tick

Tick

How much longer was this cop going to keep me here? What if Jasper woke up and I wasn't there? What would he think? He would think I was ashamed of him. He would think I abandoned him.

He needed me in that room, holding his hand as his eyes opened. I wanted to be the first one he saw. I wanted him to look into my green eyes and see I loved every fiber of him, and nothing had changed between us.

_I_ needed to be in that room, holding his hand as his eyes opened. I needed to be the first person he saw. I needed to look into his blue eyes and show him he was the most important person in the world. He was _it_.

Tick

Tick

Tick

The small lounge we met in must have been used for consultations, business like, flat, unstimulating. Sitting across the light grey formica table from the cop, I told him everything. Well, nearly everything. I didn't mention Jasper was on a porn site. I did mention Mike showed a video of Jasper in a very compromising position, that threatening notes had been left for weeks, that despicable, hateful words were thrown at him, and that Jessica shoved him, leaving him to bleed all over the floor.

He wanted to know about my relationship with Jasper, and when I told him Jasper was my partner, the cop was respectful to me. The slightest cock of his brow would have caused me to go off on him, but he was professional and really seemed to care about Jasper's circumstance. My greatest fear was that Jasper would have to testify against Mike and Jessica, causing him to become infamous as the porn star who was gay bashed.

Tick

Tick

Tick

My knee bounced under the table at about two hundred and forty beats a minute, muscles fatiguing under the strain, but I was unable to stop. My Jasper-blood covered arms rested on the table, hands wringing, dried blood cracking under the movement. He could tell I was anxious to be done. I was wound tighter than a two dollar watch, and I was ready to spring out of the room the second I was free to go.

His cell phone rang and he excused himself, leaving me alone to my thoughts of earlier this morning. Sound faded away as I remembered the mornings happenings.

I woke to light pouring through the large window above me, spilling heat across my face, and the beeping noise of Jasper's IV pump. Shielding my eyes, I sat up, scratched my head, and put my socked feet on the ground. A nurse smiled at me, gently touching Jasper's arm before leaving the room. Jasper's face seemed to have more color and the pink in his full lips was returning. Looking around the room, I noticed I was alone and wondered where everyone had gone. On the over-bed table there was a note, a bagel, cream cheese, and a cup of coffee from B&O Espresso. No more crappy coffee in thin styrofoam cups.

I watched Jasper rest, heal. Choking back a sob, I sensed myself shaking from my effort. I felt relief, but at the same time a new awareness that hadn't been there before. It was like a shade had been drawn back, allowing me to see the world and all it's ugliness. Realization plowed through me. I had led a golden life where things had come to me with little effort, and I rarely had to fight or even defend myself.

Reaching out for some comfort, I drank the coffee, it slid down my throat, warming me all the way down. Sighing at the sensation, I took a deep breath of the hazelnut latte and reached for my bagel. I sat down in the pink chair beside the bed to enjoy my breakfast and the beauty of my love. Just as I sat, my father walked in.

"How you holding up?" he asked before I hummed by response around the coffee cup. "He's doing really well, Edward. He's on his last unit of blood. Everything's looking good."

"Yes, but when will he wake up?"

"That, I can't tell you. His body went through a significant trauma and then major surgery. It'll take time to heal and resting is the best thing for him." He paused, sensing my disappointment. "He'll come back to you, Edward, of that I'm sure."

"Come here." My father pulled me into a warm embrace, rubbing my back and kissing the top of my head. Leaning back to look at me, his eyes were serious. "I love you so much. I know this has been hard on you, but you've been doing really well. I'm so proud of you. If you ever want to talk about anything, I am here for you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah Dad, I know. You and Mom have always been there for me. I just hope I can be there for Jasper, because I'm scared this is going to make him afraid … afraid to be with me." Taking in a shaky breath, I rubbed my hand over my right brow, squeezing the skin as I dragged across my temple.

"It might Edward, but it could also strengthen him. I don't know what actually happened aside from Jessica's actions, but from what I gathered, she was running her mouth off, saying some derogatory gay slurs. Charges could be filed."

"I'm sure they could, but I'm not sure he's ready to be a poster boy for gay bashing quite yet."

"We'll talk about this soon, ok? I have to finish rounds," and with that he left the room, leaving me alone with Jasper.

Standing next to the bed, I knew what I was about to do was most likely not the best idea I'd ever had, and it was certainly against hospital rules, but I proceeded nonetheless. Easing my body under the sheet, I rested my weight on the mattress between Jasper's right side and the bed rail. I settled into him, resting my hand on his chest. I breathed in deeply, nuzzling into his neck and smelling a hint of Jasper among the antiseptic smells of the hospital. Bending my left arm to serve as a pillow, I rested my head on it to make myself comfortable. His right leg shifted closer to me, surprising me, and I instinctually wrapped my upper leg around it, tangling our limbs in our familiar pose.

It felt so good to be next to him, touching his warm skin, feeling his energy, even if it was a bit dulled. Listening to his breathing, slow and steady, I found myself matching his rate, relaxing into him, and feeling his heart beat beneath my hand.

He was going to come out of this. My father's confidence boosted my own, filling the emptiness I'd been feeling since I saw Jasper tumble into the glass. A happy tear slid from my eye, landing on my inner arm and trickling to the crook of my elbow.

Sliding up the bed, I placed kisses on Jasper's forehead, temple, cheek, lips. The feeling of his flesh on my lips again was enough to make me feel a subtle stirring in my groin. I looked at his beautiful face, gently stroking with my thumb, tracing over his brow and cheekbones before trailing my fingers down his chest to rest at his stomach. Kissing across his jaw toward his ear, I pulled his earlobe into my mouth, needing to feel him before I placed my lips in front of his ear.

Over my shoulder, I heard the door latch shut and turned to see Rosalie and Jasper's mother standing in the room. I didn't know how long they'd been there, but I knew the door took several seconds to close on its safety hinge. Rose smirked and looked over at her mother. Adrenaline shot through my veins, causing blood to race through me.

Jasper's mom reached for the door handle to leave as I sat up, holding my arm out in greeting. "No, Mrs. Whitlock. Don't go. I'll give you some privacy." I eased off the bed, fumbled with my boots, and clumsily made my way toward the door.

"I'll be right with you, Mom," Rosalie said, "I need to talk to Edward for a minute. We'll get Dr. Cullen to come and talk to you too, in case you have any questions."

As we walked toward the nurse's station, Rosalie grabbed my arm, slowing my pace. She looked at me with a strange look, warning mixed with amusement. "My mom was in Jasper's old room and asking all sorts of questions. She hung her clothes in the closet, saw it was empty and then started going through drawers. I didn't know what to tell her, so I told her I didn't know what was up, but she's suspicious, Edward. She snooped a bit. I just thought you should know."

"Fuck! And then she saw me kissing him? How long were you standing there? What did you see?" I demanded.

"Uhm, I think she saw enough for her to put the puzzle pieces together."

"No, seriously Rose, how much did you see?"

"She saw you kiss him on the mouth and those tender caresses were not the stuff of friendship," she laughed.

"It's not funny, Rose. This is fucking serious. Jasper's not going to be happy when he wakes up and realizes I outed him because I couldn't keep my bloody hands off him."

How the hell was I going to explain this to his mom?

While I stewed in my own juices pacing the hall, Rose had the nurses page my father, who quickly came and entered Jasper's room to talk to Mrs. Whitlock. I had to think fast. What was I going to say? I felt like walking out the front door and moving all of Jasper's stuff back into his room for the remainder of her stay so I didn't have to betray him. This was his story to tell, and if she confronted me while Jasper was still lying there unconscious, I didn't know what I would do. My stomach twisted in knots as my father left the room, giving my shoulder a quick squeeze as he passed.

"What did you tell her about last night … how he got injured?" I asked Rosalie, realizing I should have this information before facing Mrs. Whitlock.

"I told her someone shoved him into the table because they were wasted and angry," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "It happens all the time. I figured I'd go with something plausible." Thank God for her practical side, I thought as I licked my lips.

Taking a deep breath, I blew it out slowly, letting the air rush across my damp lips. Pulling the door open, I followed Rose in, my shoulders back, my head held high and a smile on my face. Jasper's mom looked to my stained arms, settling there for a moment before she registered her error and focused back on my face.

"So, Mrs. Whitlock, did my father answer all your questions?" I queried, hoping to distract her with her son's condition rather than her questions about his living arrangements and newly discovered sexuality.

"Edward, you know you can call me Elise," she smiled." I corrected myself. "Your father explained nearly everything." She looked at me with steely eyes, and I swallowed a large lump that quickly formed in my throat.

Reaching for my coffee, I took several loud gulps of the rapidly cooling drink before recovering. "Mmmm. Well, we still don't know how long he'll be out, but I'm hoping he wakes up soon." Fuck, did I hope it was soon! I thought I wanted it bad before, but now I was desperate. I headed toward the couch, turning my back on her severe gaze, and started to fold the linens.

"I was putting my things away at your house and noticed Jasper's closet is empty." I heard her heels click on the linoleum as she rounded the foot of the bed and headed toward me. "It seemed a little strange to me, and then I passed by your bedroom and saw his Murano glass you bought him in Italy sitting on the dresser in your room." Her voice was cold and full of question.

Muscles tensed in my back and neck, making it hard to fold the long flat sheet. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up as the rush of fear flowed across my skin. Rose sensed my growing unease, walked to me, reached for an end of the sheet to help, and turned to her mother. "Mom, Edward's going to be meeting with the police in about five minutes, so I think it's best if we leave your interrogation for after Edward files his report, okay?" she posed in such a perky tone I had to look to make sure she was the same Rosalie I'd known for seven years. Never in my life had I heard her talk like that … like Alice.

There was a knock on the door and the police officer from last night walked into the room. "Edward Cullen?" I nodded. "I have a room down the hall we can meet in if you'd like to come with me?"

"Sure, I'll be right there."

Heading over to Jasper's bedside with my back to Elise, I leaned in and whispered quietly in his ear so no one in the room could hear. "I have to leave for a few minutes, but I will be right back. Come home to me, Jasper. I love you." Pulling back I brushed my thumb across his cheekbone and gently pressed my lips together before leaving the room to tell the cop everything that happened last night.

#

The door clicked shut behind me, and the detective rejoined me in the conference room. I heard the clock's incessant beat once again.

Tick

Tick

Tick

"Mr. Cullen, I want to thank you for answering all my questions. I believe we're going to be charging Ms. Stanley with assault and battery. Mr. Newton will probably be drawn up on those charges as well, but accessory charges will more likely stick. It's all up to the DA's office.

"Now, I can tell you want to get back to your uh … boyfriend, so I won't keep you any longer. You have my card when Jasper is awake to talk to us," he said, standing up. He moved to shake my hand before looking at it and giving it a second thought. Pulling his hand away, he simply nodded my dismissal. I bolted up, practically sprinting down the hallway.

I had to get there. What if he woke up already? What if his mother started interrogating him? I hoped Rosalie hadn't left.

By the time I got back to Jasper's room, Alice and Bella had arrived, and they were deep in conversation with Jasper's mother. They were sitting on the couch, Elise in the middle, her curly blond hair gracing her shoulders, her piercing blue eyes darting to mine as I entered the room. Rosalie was still there, keeping vigil in the pink chair at the bedside. Sitting on the bed, I took Jasper's hand in mine and traced the prominent veins in his forearm. I ghosted over his soft skin, feeling the give as I pressed down, feeling the blood, that was now not purely his, course through his veins.

"You know," Alice chirped at me, "we were just talking about last night. I was telling Elise about Mike and Jessica." What the fuck did she tell her! My head spun around, eyes meeting Rosalie's, silently pleading with her, begging they hadn't said anything about the video or the poison that spilled from traitorous mouths.

"So are they both in police custody?" Elise asked from behind me, causing me to look just as Bella and Alice nodded their response. "Good."

Rose turned toward me, her face softening as she studied me. "When I saw how much blood there was, I was amazed. It was like watching a well rehearsed routine, the way you and Alice simply took over." She looked down at my hands that held Jasper's and shook her head. "So much blood."

We all sat in silence, thinking about last night, simply trying to make sense of it in our own ways. I wanted to talk to them, to find out what Jessica said, if she tried to explain herself, if Mike showed any sort of remorse. We'd have to wait for a better moment and some privacy.

I caressed Jasper's hand, running my free hand up and down his fingers, tracing around his short, clean nails. Finding a callous on his right hand, I brushed my thumb across it. This was the support for his pencil when he drew. Tears filled my eyes as a flood of gratitude rushed over me. At least his hands weren't damaged. His livelihood and passion wouldn't be castrated by the foolish act of a pointless girl.

I felt Alice next to me, clicking away on her camera as I continued to draw delicate lines on Jasper's hand and arm. That was her way of processing her feelings, even if it seemed a bit inappropriate. Rosalie sat with blue and green variegated boucle yarn and knit a long, loopy scarf. Bella curled into the corner of the couch and read a thick, red leather-bound book. Elise sat back, an issue of People in her hands, sneaking peeks at me every few minutes.

Watching Jasper's chest, it rose and fell in steady, even breaths I tried to emulate again. My hand moved, ready to caress the lines of his mouth when I remembered at the last second to keep my hands to myself. Elise wasn't going to see anything unusual from me, but I'd been holding Jasper's hand for years, so I hoped she didn't find that suspicious.

Behind me a bright light flashed, lighting up Jasper's face. Turning around I glared, seeing that Alice had pulled out her light meter and had decided to use her flash. "Must you Alice?" I asked, allowing venom to drip from my voice. Shifting back to face Jasper, I saw his left eye barely crack open.

Was he actually going to wake up? A small groan formed deep in his throat as he shifted his head from side to side, brows furrowing in what I assumed was either pain or confusion. Ever so slowly, Jasper opened his eyes, squinting from the bright light in the room. His vision must have been foggy because it took a few moments before he was able to focus on my face.

I was the first person he saw when he woke up and his face greeted me with the slightest curl of his lip, as he tried to smile. "Hey Jasper," I beamed, trying to reassure him with my voice, my face, my touch.

Squeezing my hand, he signaled for me to come closer, by curling his fingertips a few times in my palm. Without hesitation I leaned into him, ready to hug him, but he lifted his other hand to the back of my neck as he started to pull me into a kiss. Dodging his mouth and leaning into his left ear I whispered, "Love, your mom is here in the room. As much as I want to kiss you right now, I think we should be discreet, but I love you so fucking much."

He needed to know that.

I needed to say that.

Tangling his fingers in my hair, he pulled back minutely, cueing me to move away. When I looked into his face, I saw a burning intensity despite his weakened state. Releasing my hand, he ran his thumb across the sharp line of my cheekbone, fingers pulling me toward his mouth. I froze for a moment, my eyes pleading with him to understand what he was about to do, before his fingers drew me closer and our lips met in soft, sweet kisses.

The room disappeared around me the moment Jasper touched my lips, all sound and movement fading away as a fuzzy haze encircled my vision, leaving only Jasper unaffected.

I rested my hands on either side of his shoulders as I leaned into our kiss that he deepened as his mouth opened, ever so slightly, and his tongue peeked out between parted lips. I could tell he was weak and I didn't want him to over exert himself, so I pulled back, placing a chaste kiss on his pink lips, whispering, "I love you, Jasper," into his mouth.

He tried to speak, but I silenced him, asking if he was in pain. When he admitted to not feeling very well, I pressed the call button in hopes of getting him some pain medication. The moment he admitted to having pain, sound rushed back into my ears, and I noticed throat-clearing coming from Elise as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Ignoring my fears for the moment, I recounted the events of the night for Jasper and let him know about his surgery, the expected outcome, and what happened to Mike and Jessica. Everyone stayed where they were, not wanting to overwhelm him with a rush toward his bedside. Once his curiosity was sated, he turned away from my gaze and took in his surroundings, studying each face in the room with weary eyelids.

Taking my hand back in his, he focused intently on me for just a moment before he turned to his mother, saying in a rasp, "Mom, I'm gay and Edward and I are lovers." And with that, it was done, a momentary revelation. Even if our previous actions had already shown her what his words finally said, Jasper found his own voice and used it to tell his truth to one of the most important people in his life.

Elise studied Jasper for a few moments before her intense eyes traveled to me. My stomach flipped as I readied myself.

"How long? How long has this been going on?" Her tone was sharp, accusatory.

"Mom," Jasper drew her attention off of me, "I've been gay my whole life, I just didn't realize it until recently."

"How could you not realize it?" she scoffed, disbelief surrounding her entire body before she pointed her finger at me. "This has something to do with you, doesn't it, Edward?"

I was dumbfounded. What did she think I was, a fucking recruiter? I'd been friends with Jasper for years and never once even tried to kiss him. God knows I wanted to. Fuck, I wanted to kiss him! Some days in high school, after he left my house, I would lock myself in my room and jerk off multiple times, trying to will myself into obedience so I wouldn't be tempted. Most of the time it worked. Other days were torture.

Opening my mouth to answer, I was stopped short by the sound of clicking heels behind me. "Mom, didn't you ever notice that Jasper and Edward had sort of a different kind of friendship? I mean, they slept together in the same bed, for God sake. Straight boys just don't do that sort of stuff, especially in high school!"

Elise shifted her eyes beneath her furrowed brows, thinking about Rosalie's words before she moved her gaze to the hem of her shirt, studying the rows of even stitching.

"I mean, it was different, Mom," Rosalie emphasized. "They held hands as teenagers. They snuggled on the couch. I remember walking in on them once when they were watching a movie. It was right after we moved to Forks, and Jasper had his head in Edward's lap. If that wasn't weird enough, Edward was actually playing, _playing_ with Jasper's hair. And then it got stranger. When they saw me in the room looking at them, they didn't even move or act embarrassed. They just asked me if I wanted to watch the movie with them, like what they were doing happened everyday. I was so fascinated I could barely concentrate on the film. I kept looking over at them, touching each other like … lovers. They've never had a typical friendship. This has been going on for years; Jasper just wasn't able to see it for what it was."

"So, what changed, Jasper?" Elise asked, her skepticism replaced by curiosity.

"Uh … um … well, I kind of had an epiphany one day," he stammered, a welcomed blush coloring his cheeks. "Something strange happened to me, and I started looking at Edward differently. After a lot of thinking and soul searching, I talked to him about it, and we've been together ever since. And we love each other, very much," he finished, looking in my eyes and glowing.

"Well, this explains the empty bedroom. I have to say I was a bit surprised to find all of your stuff in Edward's room," she admitted. "And I owe you an apology, Edward. I was a bit … over bearing earlier this morning, and I'm sorry about that."

Standing up, Elise walked over to the bed and sat on the other side. She took Jasper's hand in her own and studied it before looking into his eyes, tears filling her own. "How long have you kept this a secret from me, Jasper?" Was she hurt? Was she scared?

"Edward and I have been together for about two months." He squeezed her hand, reassuring her with his touch. "I wanted to tell you in person at Thanksgiving. I just needed a little more time to tell dad. He's not exactly supportive, you know, especially about this. Don't think I've forgotten about what happened in high school."

Elise flinched at Jasper's words, shaking her head as she replayed the memory. "Your father is set in his ways, but what he did to you that day changed so many things. I know you probably didn't see it, but that was the day I finally put my foot down. He was gone for three days, not because he was that angry. He was gone because I wouldn't let him come home. I was done the moment he laid his hands on you. I didn't let him come home, and I made sure it would never happen again."

Looking at Rose and Jasper, I saw astonishment written on their faces. Astonishment and awe. Awe for the woman seated in front of them who had silently stood up for Jasper, protecting him from the sidelines and making sure his father would never hurt him again.

"I know you kids haven't really seen the changes in him. Rose, you'd already moved out," she squeezed Jasper's hand, "and you were already spending so much more time at Edward's house. But things changed. He's a much happier man. But, I don't really want to talk about him right now. I want to talk about you," she said and her face broke into the lovely smile that reminded me so much of Jasper's.

Leaning over to kiss Jasper, I captured his lips before smiling at his beautiful face. "I'm going to go home, love. I need to take a shower." He reached for my arms, tracing his fingers over the bloody reminders of his injury. I didn't need this anymore. I had Jasper back.

"Come back soon, babe. I need you here."

Alice, Bella, and I left his room, allowing Jasper to reconnect with his family.

Jasper had just dropped a bomb on his mom, and as much as I wanted to be by his side right now, I knew he needed to have some time with them. Each mile I drove, I felt the ache in my gut grow. I'd never felt this way about someone before. I never burned for someone with my whole body. My longing for Jasper before we were lovers was so much different than now. Now, the fire consumed me and the simple act of driving away from the hospital made me feel a crushing anguish, causing tears to fill my eyes and quickly fall.

I thought I would feel relieved and overwhelmed with joy. Those feelings were there too, but they were buried under my need, my body's demand to be near him. _Shit! Why did I leave? Why didn't I just stay there and talk to him? Why didn't I hold him longer, kiss his lips, and feel his breath wash across my skin?_

But I knew, I could feel how desperately his mother needed to talk to him. She needed to know Jasper was safe and well, and not only in the physical sense. Elise was curious how her son could seemingly realize overnight he was gay. That wasn't a conversation I had to be a part of because it wasn't my story, and he should explain it in his words.

After pulling into our garage and walking in the house, I made myself a pot of coffee. It was becoming such a habit, but after only a few hours of sleep, I knew I needed it. I wanted to get back to the hospital as soon as I could, but I knew Jasper and I would need some things for our stay. I didn't intend to leave him again, if I could help it. I was going to sleep there every night until he came home.

While the water made it's journey through the coffee grounds, dripping slowly into the pot below, I headed to the shower to wash away the night. Stepping under the rainfall showerhead, I held my arms in front of me, not quite ready to rinse Jasper's blood from them. Why was I holding onto these crimson stains? At the hospital, I'd been ready to wash away these tokens of Jasper, but once he was no longer in my arms, I was apprehensive. But this blood wasn't Jasper, and all I needed to do was finish my shower and drive back to him. He was safe.

Turning toward the water, I allowed the thick drops of water to slowly dissolve the stains on my skin. It took some time, but eventually the blood began to run in red rivulets down my fingers, joining the crystal, clear water in thin, red streaks as they headed toward the drain in the floor. I was mesmerized by the beauty as the crimson circled around and around before being sucked and drawn away, taken on a journey altogether foreign.

The magnitude of last night finally hit me as flashes of the pooled blood beneath Jasper's lifeless body came to my mind. I stumbled backwards, falling onto the shower bench as it hit my knees. Pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them, I allowed myself to finally weep. I let it spill out of me. I rocked and heard myself start to sing the song I had sung to Jasper. I tried to get it all out, needing to purge myself of this anguish before I rejoined him at the hospital. He didn't need to see my despair and doubt. Right now, he required my strength. I would be his rock, the person he could lean on, and I would do everything in my power to help him achieve healing.

With those thoughts empowering me, I stood to finish my shower. I reached for my mint shampoo before deciding against it. Now, I wanted to smell like Jasper, so I squeezed the clove shampoo in my hand and washed not only my hair, but my entire body in his essence.

Looking at my hands, I saw the lines, creases and nails held onto his blood the longest. This only made sense to me since my hands had the longest contact, but it seemed like so much more. I would need to scrub these stains away. I would have to make a conscious effort to scrub my fears away too. Just beside the body wash, I found a soft brush and methodically washed both hands, finding strength with each pass. I was clean, purged, strong, and ready to be there for Jasper.

After dressing, I found a bag of Jaspers and started to think about what he might like during his stay. I threw some of my things in too since I didn't think I would leave. Grabbing his most comfortable underwear and a few other items, I threw them in his bag and headed for our studio. I knew Jasper would want to draw if he had enough energy, so I found his most recent sketchbook and a few things he was working on in classes. Rifling through his desk, I found several of his favorite tools and threw them into a pencil case before heading to the garage.

The drive back to the hospital made me a bit excited. Maybe it was the coffee I'd been sipping since getting out of the shower, but I felt butterflies zipping around in my gut as I neared the hospital. The surging energy I always felt around Jasper grew as my foot hit the concrete in the parking garage, and the feeling increased with each step closer. When I stepped into his room I could barely contain it anymore.

He was lying there, eyes closed and resting on his bed. Rosalie and Elise were gone. Not wanting to disturb him, I sat in the pink chair and reached for his hand. As soon as I made contact, his eyes opened and a warm smile spread across his face.

"Hey, you're here already, I'm glad." He sounded genuinely surprised. "I thought you'd go home and sleep."

"Are you kidding? I could barely stand being away from you. I had to get back here. Fuck. I mean, it hurt, love. I don't want to be away from you at all, and now I don't have to be. I'm staying until you come home, if that's okay with you?"

"Come here, babe," he said, patting next to him on the mattress. Gently sliding in, much like I did earlier this morning, I placed my hands on his chest, avoiding his wounds. He turned his head and sweetly kissed me. "You can stay as long as you want, Edward. Your dad thinks I'll be here about four or five days."

"I brought your laptop, sketchbook, and some pants."

"Oh, thank God you brought pants. This gown is humiliating to wear, but I'll have to get rid of this catheter first. They want me to get up and start moving tomorrow afternoon, and I'll be wearing pants for that. You're a lifesaver," he said gratefully.

"So, did you have a good talk with your mom and Rosalie?" I asked, unable to contain my curiosity anymore.

His eyes lit up and he smirked. "It was interesting, that's for sure. I mean, that's not at all how I planned on telling my mom, but when I woke up and saw you there, I had to kiss you whether she was in the room or not. I guess I just didn't care anymore. It was like all of my fears were gone. All I wanted at that moment was you, and there was nothing that was going to get in my way. My father could have been in the room and I would've done the exact same thing, Edward. I just don't fucking care anymore. I want you, and the whole world can know."

My fears of Jasper not wanting to be with me anymore were unwarranted.

"Are you sure this isn't just the pain medication talking," I joked, pulling out my cell phone. "In fact, maybe we should get your dad here now while you're all drugged up and get it over with. Let's see if I remember your phone number in Forks."

"Stop. I'm going to wait until Thanksgiving," he said seriously. "We talked about it this morning and Mom thinks it would be best to do it then. In fact, would you mind if we had Thanksgiving at our house?"

"I think we can do that," I agreed, pushing a few curls off his forehead. "Are you in much pain?"

"Not really. I don't know what they have me on, but I feel pretty good unless I use any abdominal muscles. I'm very tired though. I can't wait to get rid of these damn tubes," he said, gesturing toward his catheter and the drainage tube in his side. He also had an NG tube in his nose, leading to his stomach, but that didn't seem to bother him as much.

"Well, don't worry about that now. Let's just lay here and rest, okay? Just relax and heal, Jasper." I leaned closer to him and kissed his forehead, hearing his breathing slow down and even out as he fell into sleep. I wasn't far behind, as my physical closeness to Jasper allowed my exhaustion to finally take over.

#

The next several days were challenging for Jasper. Simply trying to adjust himself in bed was painful, and dealing with the NG tube and the catheter about did him in. It was a great relief when the nurses finally were able to remove them, but that also meant he now had to get up to use the bathroom. I was glad I decided to stay, because I ended up helping him get from one room to the other and learned a great deal from the nurses about how to help him once he came home.

Most of Jasper's time was spent sleeping, drawing, or surfing the internet. I was glad to see him resting but I would occasionally get a bit antsy and have to leave the room just to see something different. I could only imagine how cooped up he was feeling. His mood became testier as the week went on, with him snapping at me for little things here and there. I knew I wasn't in the best of moods either. All we really wanted was to get home to our own bed and be done with it.

Elise decided to stay for only two days before heading back to Forks, needing to get back to her job. Soon, the room was empty except for us with visitors in the evening. It was a nice diversion when Emmett or Ben and Angela would come. We got to see who our real friends were, and there were a lot. So many people told Jasper he had nothing to be worried about if the video came up. Some friends simply said nothing. There were only a few who stayed away, but that was expected from them. It wasn't felt as a great loss.

Finally, on the fifth day after Jasper's surgery, the drainage tube was removed and he was free from all devices. Discharge papers were being drawn up and we were simply waiting for prescriptions. He reveled in being able to shower more easily, and as soon as he got dressed in his sleep pants and T-shirt, his mood improved dramatically. By mid-afternoon, I was pulling into our driveway and we were both breathing a sigh of relief.

After getting him setup in our bed, I headed to the kitchen to make him a snack. I heard him struggling with something, swearing under his breath and when I arrived in the room with a bowl of green apples and caramel, I saw him struggling to get his pants off.

Setting the bowl down on the bed, I helped him pull his pants down the rest of the way. "What's going on, Jasper?"

"I'm just sick and tired of wearing fucking clothes," he said in frustration as he attempted to remove his underwear. "I know I bitched about not being able to wear pants in the hospital those first days, but I'm home now. I just want to sleep like I always do."

"Okay, just let me help you." Reaching under his hips, I grabbed the waistband of his boxers and eased them off his hips, trying to avoid the need for him to use his abdominal muscles any more than necessary. "I suppose you want your shirt off too," I wondered aloud as I sat at the head of the bed and gently eased him into a sitting position. Pulling his shirt off, my eyes met numerous cuts scattered across this back from the glass shards that had been imbedded in his skin as he lay bleeding on the floor. They were all healing very well, and I placed fleeting kisses across his wounds before helping him get comfortable again. "Does that feel better?" I asked before walking to my side of the bed and lying on top of the comforter.

"So much better," he smiled. "I've been dreaming about this bed for the last few nights. Feels so good," he said as he ran his hands along the sheets, accidentally bumping the bowl of apples and caramel.

My quick reflexes allowed me to catch the bowl as an apple slice flew in the air and landed in the caramel. Picking the slice out of the sauce, I brought it up to let the excess caramel ribbon back into the bowl and then proceeded to bring it to Jasper's lips. On the way there, a large drop fell and landed on his right nipple, and I instinctively leaned forward to lick it off. Jasper's head rolled to the side as a moan escaped his mouth. Just hearing his voice sent electricity down my neck and back, ending deep in my groin.

Looking up, I saw his eyes had darkened and his lids became heavy. Moving to sit cross-legged on the bed facing him, I gave him my crooked smile and dipped the apple slice back into the caramel again. He smirked at me and raised his left brow as I allowed a trail of golden caramel to connect his nipples. Feeding him the green apple, I leaned down and licked across his chest as his lips wrapped around the wet flesh of the fruit and his teeth bit down with a crunch. It was one of the sexiest things I'd ever seen his mouth do next to sucking my cock.

As gingerly as I could, I attacked his mouth, trying to avoid any jostling of his torso. His mouth answered back hungrily. It had been days of soft, tender kisses and touches and we both craved so much more. His fingers dug into my hair and tightened, pulling it from the roots and making me involuntarily groan into his mouth. "Fuck," escaped me while his lips curled into his smirk again.

With little thought, I grabbed another apple slice and twirled it in the caramel to catch the drips and then carefully allowed a line to be drawn on his burgeoning cock. Sliding my body to the foot of the bed, I bent both of his knees and placed his feet, flat on the bed. He looked down at me between his legs as I slowly worked my trailing fingers from his beautiful feet, up his calves, over his knees, and down his thighs. Stopping mid thigh, I slipped my lower half off the bed and buried my nose in his curls, breathing deeply the scent of Jasper. My mouth started to water at his essence, and I allowed the saliva to build as I took his caramel covered head into my mouth. Sliding my tongue down the line of sauce that covered the underside of his cock, I licked the sweetness and swallowed around him, earning a sigh. Licking up and down his length, I made sure to get every sticky morsel, cleaning him well beyond what was necessary.

His breathing started to become a bit ragged as his fingers curled around the sheets at his side. Looking up at him while I continued to lick him I said, "Do you like it when I eat your cock? Do you like it when I take you in my hot mouth and make you come, Jasper?" He nodded with his eyes closed, but that wasn't good enough. "I need you to tell me, love. What do you like?" I demanded.

"I like it when you lick me and suck me. I want you to suck my balls, please Edward," he begged. Taking his right ball in my mouth, I gently sucked it before giving the left equal time. As much as I wanted a taste of his ass right then, I knew his stomach muscles would be affected so instead, I allowed myself a bite of the flesh at the top of his thigh. "Oh fuck, Edward. I love that," he cried. Not wanting to deny him, I bit him again until his skin turned a nice rosy shade of pink and he was panting from the pleasure and pain. Taking his shaft in hand, I started to stoke him while I licked his pained flesh, soothing him.

Fatigue was taking him as his breathing accelerated and his body experienced gratification, so I quickly moved back to take his rosy head back in my mouth and sucked up and down. Wanting to bring him to climax quickly now, I trailed my tongue around his head and increased the speed of my hand until I felt him release into my mouth. His hands gripped in tight fists, and I held his hips firm to the bed so he wouldn't injure himself. I felt his cock spasm in my mouth, pumping against my tongue, and I sucked him, helping him fully release.

Looking up, I pulled my mouth off of him, releasing him with a pop. Jasper's eyes were nearly closed as he looked down at me and gave a very lazy smile. "Wow. Thanks. I wasn't really expecting anything like that for awhile," he admitted.

"Neither was I, but the damn caramel had other ideas. One second it was a snack and then the next … I just couldn't resist. Oh, and the sauce was pretty good too," I joked. "Did I hurt you?" I asked, all of a sudden a little worried even though I'd tried to keep it in mind.

"I'm just fine, Edward. In fact, I'm more than fine. You can do that anytime," he chuckled as he reached for the bowl of apples to continue eating his snack. "Now, I'm extra sleepy. I'm going to eat and then take a little nap, okay?" he asked as his eyes started to close. He got one more apple slice into his mouth before his lips closed around it and he fell asleep.

"Sweet dreams and welcome home," I said as I pushed a curl behind his ear, leaving the room with the apples in hand to let him heal and rest.

* * *

**Edit: 2/5/12**


	16. Naked Truth

**Naked Truth**

I felt the slightest vibration between my fingers as my pencil glided over the textured paper of my sketchbook. For the last weeks, I felt the compulsion to draw the same image over and over. Perhaps it was because of my dreams. Perhaps it was because of Edward. I'm not really sure, but my pencil continued to create curving lines that met and fell away from each other to make something that meant more than what it appeared on the stark, white paper.

I'd emailed all of my professors and told them about my injury and recovery, and Edward was able to get several make-up assignments I'd be able to do at home in bed while I healed. I was ecstatic to find out my accident wouldn't push back my graduation.

It had been two weeks since Jessica had pushed me and I lost consciousness. Each day since my spleen was removed, I got stronger and was now able to walk without stooping, as well as move around the house with relative ease. It would still be sometime until I could lift much, but Edward was helping me. He had returned to classes a few days after I got home from the hospital and had been busy trying to catch up with schoolwork himself. Our evenings were spent either in our living room or in our studio.

Our studio time was my favorite time of day, even more so than before. We would put great music on while we drew or painted together, talking about anything and everything. It reminded me a lot of what our friendship was like when we were in high school, before the responsibilities of life became reality. It was more laid back and relaxed, conversation flowed freely, and it felt natural.

Since I would tire easily, Edward had helped set up the Barcelona bed in the studio to work with a makeshift drawing table. It was comfortable to rest on and I spent much of my time on the daybed with my nose in my sketchbook drawing those curved lines and thinking. The whole process of drawing the image seemed to be healing any and all things Jessica and Mike had tried to break inside of me.

I was angry at what happened on Halloween more than anything. It wasn't because I was physically injured—but that sucked too—it was more that I'd been betrayed. They wanted to humiliate me and make me feel ashamed, but I didn't let that happen. I wouldn't let it happen now either, and with each drawing I completed, I seemed to be finding my path easier to identify and follow.

The sunlight was pouring through the large windows, and I squinted at its reflection illuminating my paper. Setting my sketchbook on the black leather bed, I reached up, rubbing my hands across the fourteen days worth of growth on my face. It wasn't that I didn't want to shave; it was just hard to stand at the sink for so long without getting exhausted. Rather than tire myself, I had decided in the hospital to let it go and see what would happen. It grew in darker than my blond hair and was mostly under my chin and along my jaw line. I barely had a mustache. Edward told me he liked the scruff on my face, but I thought I looked like a kid trying too hard to look grown up. As soon as he stared obsessing about kissing my jaw line though, I decided not shaving for a week or two was worth it.

"Tell me about that, Jasper?" Edward asked from his chair at the desk, startling me away from my thoughts. He had spun around and was looking down at my sketchbook, tilting his head as if he were trying to understand it better. "I know you've been drawing it a lot, and I was just wondering why."

I took in a deep breath and slowly let it escape between my lips while I thought about how to answer. "I started having dreams several months ago and they were scary at first. It seemed I was always lost in some sort of maze like endless hallways, or corn fields," I admitted. Scanning his face, I saw that understanding seemed to flash behind his eyes for just a second. Knowing he had dreams too, he perceived my fear very well.

"After awhile though, the dreams became less scary, and I felt like they were trying to tell me something. This might sound crazy, but after I lost consciousness, I swear I heard you singing to me. I kept trying to get back to your voice and followed the sound, but the singing would move. One minute it would be on my left and then on my right, so I found myself walking in circles until I found you at the center of this elaborate labyrinth."

"I did sing to you Jasper. I started singing even before you passed out, but kept singing until they took you away from me at the hospital." He looked down at his arms, scanning between his left and right. I knew I hadn't imagined his voice; it had been too real. Looking down at the labyrinth, my eyes traveled across the paper while I thought about his singing.

"For some reason, I need to draw this," I shared, finally looking up to meet his beautiful face. Smiling, I reached for him, inviting him to join me on the daybed. He pulled the sketchbook into his lap as he settled in next to me and paged through my drawings.

"You've really done a lot, haven't you, love," he paused on a page and traced his finger through the maze and back out again. "I love this. It seems so spiritual. Healing. What do you think about when you draw these?" he asked, his brows knitting together.

Giving a light chuckle, I confessed, "I think of you. I think about the truth you helped me find in myself. It's like you showed me where the path was, but you've always let me walk down it in my own way," I paused, not really knowing how to continue. "Realizing I was gay took me way off course, but you were patient, a constant, and always there showing me what I could have if I just accepted a new path."

He laughed and looked at me skeptically. "I was far from patient in the beginning. You're giving me too much credit. If anything, I was pushing you, making you go faster. I'm glad I stopped though, because as soon as I did, that's when you took the reins and turned into Cowboy Jasper." I laughed at the image and nodded, thinking back to the day I tied him up in the shower and had my way with him.

Turning on the daybed and pulling him close to my chest, I nuzzled my nose behind his ear and wrapped my arm around his chest. "God, I want to be naked lying here with you," slipped out before I realized I'd said it aloud. He turned his head, looking over his shoulder at me and reached for the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head. It was that simple. All I had to do was ask and within minutes we were curled around each other, exploring bare skin and kissing under the warm rays of the sun. I loved the honesty we had and that we could lie naked and talk. There was something about being physically bare that made me want to share my most intimate thoughts with him.

I felt myself thicken and grow as our skin touched, nestling between the warmth of his cheeks. My hand grazed down his stomach and I felt my hand brush the head of his cock, resting right below his navel. The temptation to stoke him caused me to twitch, and I had to pull my hand back up to his chest before I gave in. I wanted to talk not have sex, and it was anguish to pull away because I wanted the feeling of his soft, silky skin sliding over firm muscle in the palm of my hand.

I wanted to smell him on me.

I wanted to taste him.

It had been too long.

Releasing a loud groan, I rolled onto my back and fisted my hair. He turned over to face me and said, "I know. It's really hard, isn't it? No pun intended," he said dryly. I couldn't help laughing but tears quickly filled my eyes. "What Jasper? Why the tears?" he asked, concern lacing his voice and covering his face.

"I don't know, Edward. I guess I've just been thinking so much about my life and you and the future." He propped his head up on his bent arm, lying on his side while I talked, giving me his full attention. I stared at the ceiling where the large windows met the textured plaster and thought about how to tell Edward about some of the things I wanted to. "It's just so different with you. I feel like you get me. I don't have to explain myself. Here we are in the middle of the afternoon lying naked on a daybed. If I were to do this with anyone else, we'd be very close to having sex by this point." I gave him a pointed look and admitted, "Not that I would object to that, but you could tell I needed to talk and put your needs aside, like you've been doing for the last few weeks."

"Jasper. I'm not suffering," he said as his hand reached over to finger the waves of my hair, his lips meeting the muscle of my chest and traveling to my shoulder. "There's a reason you're drawing the spiritual path of a labyrinth. It's helping you work through something. We've both used our art to process things. We do a really good job of communicating with our art, but we don't always do a great job with our words, love. I think we need to start doing that too." He leaned into me and caught my lips in his, opening his mouth to mine aggressively. Pulling him in deeper, my fingers wrapped around his messy copper strands and found his slick tongue. The subtle texture I felt in my mouth drew me in further and soon we needed to breathe. Edward panted as he backed away from me, "And we're really … really good at telling each other … how much we love each other … by doing things like that. Really good … but again … words," he barely got out before dropping his forehead to my shoulder and catching his breath.

Chuckling at his display, I pulled his face to mine and placed a chaste kiss on his reddened lips. "I love you, babe. I guess I want you to know that no one has ever loved me like you do, and I've never felt anything like this. In fact, I don't think I've ever been in love, now that I look back. At least, nothing measures up to this," I admitted.

"But that night I kissed you in the coffeehouse…." I thought back and an easy smile spread across my face. "It was the first time I'd kissed a man and it was you. Fuck, the way your mouth felt on mine, and how rough your stubble was, I nearly died. I wanted to feel you rub that scruff all over my body." Looking down between our bodies, I avoided eye contact for a brief second. "I love how your face feels on my skin." He smiled and gently rubbed his jaw across my nipple causing me to moan and catch my breath. "Fuck, just like that! Do it again, Edward," I begged. Raising himself up on all fours, he straddled my body, trailing his chin and jaw down my chest, over my sensitive flesh, and down to my thighs. "Nothing feels as good as you pressing your skin on mine." He alternated kissing, licking, and rubbing across my hips and thighs.

"Can you roll over without hurting yourself, Jasper?" he asked, helping me ease onto my stomach and right side. My left knee helped support my weight, opening me up to Edward, and as he started to do every time that he saw my back now, he kissed each and every wound, lightly licking the larger ones, trying to erase the pain. Even though I no longer had pain, I had come to love this little ritual. It relaxed me, and the love I felt poured into his kisses seemed to say, "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you." He was so reverent and tender and then as soon as he reached the curve of my buttocks, his stubble scraped down the center of me. I lifted my hips as he slid over my ass and down my left leg, rubbing his stubble all the way. The decadent feeling nearly did me in.

"Oh God, Edward. I don't know why I like that so much, but every touch reminds me you're a man, and that makes me so fucking hard. Do you feel how hard I am for you?" Looking down, I saw his hand snake between the daybed and my body, grabbing my cock and pulling it down between my legs. Then I felt his sweet, wet mouth surround my head and suck as his hands massaged my ass, causing my head to fall back against my shoulders. He slid his tongue around my balls and up the sensitive flesh between my cheeks as I pushed back into his face.

"A bit anxious, huh?" he teased as my head fell to rest on the black leather.

If only he knew.

I was so horny at that point, and even though Edward had been helping me out every few days, he was always careful to make sure I didn't overexert myself and never let me reciprocate. "You just let me do all the work, Jasper. It'll be worth it, I promise." Running his chin around the fleshy part of my ass he bit and licked the sweet spot at the top of my thigh causing me to let out a high keening sound that surprised me. The air in the room moved across the wetness where his mouth had touched, leaving me with the sensation that he was still tasting me.

"On your back!" he demanded, moving pillows behind me. I was usually the aggressor, but I liked this. "Sit," he barked, and I complied as quickly as my wounds would allow. Edward slipped off the bed and rifled through his messenger bag. Condoms and lube. He carried the shit in his bag now? I guess he was always ready, which was a good thing, because we seemed to be two horny fuckers.

"I can't wait for you to fuck me without a condom on, love," he said in a low, gravely voice as he sheathed me. "I want to feel your silky skin sliding in and out of my smooth hole and feel your come trickle out of me when you leave." I groaned at the mere thought. "We'll get there, just not yet." His promise left me smiling as he guided himself on top of me, slowly sinking down onto my throbbing cock. Our chests were so close that with the slightest movement forward our nipples brushed. I rested my back against the pillows as he moved above me, sliding up and down my shaft. It felt so good to be buried inside of him again, and I couldn't help myself from grabbing his hips and forcing him down harder.

"Fuck, Edward. Ride me. Hard!" I demanded, quickly taking back the control he so easily let go. Losing himself on top of me, he bounced up and down, his head falling forward and rolling from side to side. Nonsensical words poured from his mouth, and his muscled legs worked, flexing and contracting. "You're so beautiful like this," I said as I reached for his chest and back, pressing his body between my hands and feeling his heart race beneath my fingers. "This is it. There's nothing in the world like this," I moaned, trying to keep my body still under the overwhelming urge to thrust my hips into his.

Trailing my hand down his chest, I wrapped my fingers around his pulsing cock and slowly started to stroke him. My other hand grabbed his hip, fingers digging into his rounded cheek. With hooded lids, Edward looked down at me, and I could see he was nearing his climax. Pumping him faster, I felt him drop all of his weight onto me as I was buried deeper than I'd ever been. Even though I longed to fuck him with my thrusts, I loved watching him move along my rigid shaft.

Edward braced himself by placing his hands on the wall behind my head and forcefully came down on me, grunting from the effort he was expending as he pushed harder into my hips, rocking his own. His head fell back as a guttural groan left his chest and passed his clenched teeth as he contracted around my cock. Again and again he shot white streams across my chest, neck, and chin, more forcefully than I'd seen before. His head came forward to rest on my forehead for a few minutes before he started riding my cock again, quickly bringing me to my release. I throbbed inside of him and felt him squeeze around me, helping draw out my orgasm.

As I felt myself slowly begin to soften inside of him, his mouth met mine in ravenous kisses. Pulling him closer to me, I explored his mouth, trying to show him my love and gratitude for not handling me with kid gloves. While it was nice to have gentle touches, this was what I needed to finally feel like I was healing. His mouth moved across my jaw, and I soon felt his tongue along my chin, licking his own come from me. The realization of what he was doing made me groan, deep and loud, and he continued licking down my chest, laughing at my obvious enjoyment of his ministrations.

Slipping off me, Edward quickly made his way back to the daybed with a warm towel to wash off the remaining come from my chin, chest, and stomach before sitting next to me. We settled into our typical position of me spooning behind Edward with our legs a tangled mess. We fit so perfectly like this. "Well, now that we got that out of the way," he started, looking back at me with bright eyes sparkling, "we can get back to talking without being distracted."

"So it wasn't just me, huh?" I laughed as he shook his head and cocked a brow while glancing at the ceiling. "That's good to know. You know, that's another thing, I've never been so horny in my entire life. I mean, never!"

"Yeah, I kinda noticed that" he said as he reached behind himself and slid his hand down my ass and thigh, smiling.

"It's hard not to notice. It's like the second I realized I was gay, a switch was turned on in my brain. I mean, I desired women before, but it was always as a secondary thing. My main thing was whether or not we had things in common, and then eventually, after I'd been mentally stimulated, I could be physically stimulated. But I never experienced anything like this," I said gesturing between our bodies. "I think I've been hard more in the last 3 months than I was as a teenager, and that's saying a lot."

Rolling his body toward me, Edward slid onto his back so I could look at his face while I spoke, "I just love you so fucking much, and I don't know if there will ever be words to tell you. They all seem inadequate. Sex is the closest way I can get those feelings across, but even that's been taken away until today."

"I know you love me, Jasper. I can see it and feel it. When you kissed me in front of your mother in the hospital, that was the moment I felt all the pieces lock into place, despite the sheer terror of the moment. I knew you loved me enough to risk sharing our relationship with her. We were more important than any fear you had at that moment, am I right?" he asked.

"I don't think I could have said it better. Something changed in me when I watched Mike showing that video to all of our friends. People were shocked. That's to be expected. I get that. But the shocking thing to me, and probably to most of the people there, was that Mike showed it. Why do that? Anyway, you just took him down, and I watched you standing up for me. I realized at that moment I wasn't doing the same thing for myself or for you. I was ignoring comments from strangers and trying to be discreet, but I still wasn't standing up and really saying 'Fuck off' to bigots.

"You really showed me the truth, and I was no longer willing to take that bullshit sitting down. It felt so good to yell at Jessica and Mike, but especially Jessica," I smiled at the memory. "I feel like I'm ready for my father. He's the last hurdle until I finish the race, and I really want to be done. I'm done living in fear."

I took a breath to continue talking, feeling unusually talkative at the moment but was cut off when Edward's lips crashed into mine once again. We seemed to be doing that a lot lately, frantically kissing each other. Not one to argue, I opened my mouth to his and twirled my tongue around his. Kissing Edward was like nothing in the world. I never knew what to expect from him, and the surprise of it always excited me.

"I need to take you somewhere," Edward panted into my mouth, his breath hot washing across my lips. "Do you think you're up to getting out of the house for a little bit this afternoon?"

"More than ready. I've been feeling trapped. What did you have in mind?" I wondered.

"That's a surprise," he piped, sitting up and helping me get to my feet. "Let's go in the house and shower. Here," he wrapped me up in one of the blankets that now adorned the daybed and started getting himself dressed. I slipped my shoes on as he picked up my clothes and we headed into the house.

Once in the shower, I started to scratch my beard. "Is that thing bugging you, or is it just my come stuck in it?" he asked with a wry laugh.

"No, it's really just the hair. I'm not used to it. I'm ready to have my face back," I admitted, hoping he wouldn't be too disappointed.

For the last two weeks, I hadn't showered alone. At first it was because I needed help, but now it was simply more fun. We spent time washing each other, and the last several showers ended with Edward on his knees in front of me. Today ended differently, but the shower was no less enjoyable. I wasn't sure I ever wanted to shower alone again. Maybe I needed to get some literature on water conservation just in case he insisted on solo showers again.

In our bedroom, Edward started throwing sweaters at me as I sat on the bed pulling on my underwear, jeans, and socks. "You need to wear something warm. It's cooled off a lot in the last few days, and I don't want you getting too cold. Which is the warmest?"

I picked up the charcoal, red, and blue sweaters and easily decided on the, charcoal wool one. Just as I was about to pull it down over my head, he threw me a silk undershirt and insisted I put it on. He was serious about me staying warm. Ever since he found out from his father that I would forever be more susceptible to infections due to my missing spleen, he'd been cleaning doorknobs, washing his hands obsessively and making sure my body temperature never dropped. It was funny watching him fuss, and it only made him more endearing. Wearing the silk undershirt was a simple thing I could do to make him feel better, so I slipped both arms in and dragged it over my head before pulling on the dark gray sweater.

Not to be outdone, Edward pulled a silk shirt on before putting on a navy blue and white striped sweater. He looked very nautical and stirred a few fantasies in my mind as he pulled his faded and well-worn jeans over his luscious ass. _Here I go again. Horny Jasper is out to play._

#

After getting coffees to go, we made our way toward the center of Seattle. I was anxious to see where he was taking me since he seemed so excited. When we pulled in front of a church, I was a little surprised. Edward had never been a religious person, very spiritual, yes, but not religious. So the fact that we were sitting in front of St. Paul's Episcopal Church had me stumped.

"Come on," he said as he opened my door and helped me out, "it's here. There's something I think you'll really enjoy." He led me around the corner and the concrete gave way to a few steps down and fieldstone surrounded by green and brown native grasses. We walked into a garden area that had a perimeter surrounded by a low wall that would serve as the perfect seat if you were tired.

Right in the center of this atrium was a reddish brown circle that, upon greater inspection, I realized was a labyrinth, a living, breathing labyrinth, or so it seemed. Grabbing Edward's hand, I stopped in my tracks and turned to look at him in astonishment.

"How on earth did you know about this?" I asked, shock and excitement in my voice. "It's … it's amazing."

"My mom took me here a few years ago when it was built. She thought I'd appreciate the artistic value and the spirituality of the space. She came for the landscape architecture. I'm bringing you here for your journey. Go," he encouraged, "walk the path and find your answers."

"I need you in the center then," I smiled around my words and watched as he made his way to the rosette in the middle of the polished concrete. Walking around the edge, I found where I wanted to begin my meditation and stepped onto the path. I slowly made my way along the labyrinth, twisting and turning where the path doubled back, making my way around the circle.

At first, I felt a little foolish as Edward watched me, but with each step I took, I began to reflect on the last few months. Shedding the outside world, I retreated into my thoughts, contemplating the changes I'd made in identifying myself as a gay man, how much more alive I felt since I'd made that realization, and how secure being with Edward made me feel. I wondered how I'd ever missed the signs that I was gay when I was a child. How could I have not seen the things others saw when Edward and I were together? I thought about Mike and Jessica and how easily they could've taken away all of those things. It would have been easy to crawl back into the closet and try to hide from the world again, but I had no desire for that. I was right where I wanted to be with Edward at the center of my life.

Making my way closer to the middle of the labyrinth, I felt an inner peace fill me up as everything seemed to lock together. When I reached Edward, his eyes were closed and his face was turned to the sky in quiet solitude. Standing in front of him, I slid my hands around his waist and rested my head in the crook of his shoulder. We stood there for a long time, wrapped in each other's arms, holding onto this perfect moment.

Grabbing my hand, Edward slowly led us back out of the labyrinth. On my journey this time, I thought about the things I wanted my future to hold. I knew I wanted this man beside me every step of the way. I knew I would no longer hide and shy away from letting people know I was gay. I knew I was going to tell my father, and I was going to do it with pride. I wouldn't cower or be frightened by what he did to me so many years ago.

We rounded a sharp curve and made our way around the outer most rings of the polished concrete below our feet. I wondered about the rest of my life with Edward. One thing I was positive I wanted to do was talk to a lawyer so Edward and I could be there for each other in the hospital if anything ever happened again. We'd been lucky this time. Would I ever want to marry him if the laws finally changed? Would we want to publicly commit if the laws remained the same? I wondered if he ever wanted children. So many things we hadn't talked about.

And our art.

That was something that seemed to change too. Lately, my work was more about things inside me than things around me, as it had been for years. That could've been because of the theme we chose for our senior art show, but it was cathartic to work on these things, especially with Edward by my side. We seemed to feed off each other's work, giving new meaning to the seemingly mundane, and that made my art that much better.

I bumped into Edward as he abruptly stopped on the path. He laughed and turned around to face me, wrapping me in a warm embrace. I was getting tired and was very ready to sit down and rest, so his arms around me were easy to fall into. Breathing in his warm, rich scent, I couldn't resist kissing his neck and running my lips up to his ear.

"Thank you for bringing me here. It really means a lot," I whispered before I wrapped my lips around his earlobe. He let out a soft whimper and then attacked my neck, biting right along the skin at the collar of my sweater. Electricity shot up my neck, shooting behind my ear and traveling up my head. The charge also traveled down my body in distinct lines along my chest and back. "Unless you're willing to continue with this right here in the middle of this church atrium, I'd suggest you stop," I warned with a smirk.

He held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. Come on, let's get some supper and head home. I'm starving."

#

After a great meal at a sushi bar, we were finally home, and I was exhausted. The only exercise I'd been getting in the last week was the occasional walk around the block, so being away from home for hours had really taken a lot out of me.

I headed to our bedroom and stripped, ready to settle in for the night when Edward walked in the room with a fluffy white towel and a steaming hand towel. Settling up against the headboard, I made myself comfortable under the dark brown and turquoise sheets. I looked at him funny, but he just held up a finger and wrapped the towel around my chin and neck. It was hot and wet, but it felt good, especially after being outside in the cold November air. After leaving for a few moments, he returned with a large bowl full of hot water, my shaving mug and brush, and my razor, which he set down on the bedside table.

"Just relax, Jasper," he soothed as he hit play on the iPod docked in the Bose speakers. The soft sounds of Amos Lee filled the room, his voice dripping like chocolate, causing my eyes to close and body to melt into the pillows behind me. I heard Edward whipping the shaving foam in the cup with the badger hair brush, getting a nice lather going.

After he pulled the warm towel off me, he started drawing circles on my face with the soft brush. Opening my eyes, I smiled at the concentration painted on his features as I watched how beautiful he was when focusing. As I studied him, I noticed the most perfect pleating of his skin between his eyes when he pulled his brows together, his luscious, red raspberry lips, the bottom pushed out as he sucked on his upper lip, his tongue peeking out. The strongest urge to lean forward to taste his mouth came over me, but I forced myself to stay put by looking into his vibrant green eyes while he considered my face.

After setting the cup and brush on the side table, he resituated himself on the edge of the bed with one foot on the floor and the other leg bent at the knee. Pulling the bowl of hot water off the table, he set it in between his bent leg, stabilizing it with his calf before he reached for my razor and dipped it in the bowl.

"You ready for this, love?" I hummed and closed my eyes as the wet razor slid down my cheek. Never letting anyone shave me before, never trusting anyone enough, I didn't have a single fear as the razor slid down my neck, over my arteries, cutting away the two weeks worth of growth. After each stroke, he would rinse the blade in the hot water before starting again. The contrast of the hot water on the blade with the cool air on my wet skin felt amazing as Edward slowly cut away more than hair. He was taking away the last layer I was hiding behind. It may have just been a physical representation, but as he took the wet towel and wiped the remaining shaving foam off my face. The smooth, clean feeling that remained went beyond skin deep.

After quickly cleaning up the shaving supplies, Edward returned to cover my smooth skin with shaving lotion before he settled into bed next to me and presented me with a mirror. He'd done a really good job, and the face that stared back at me looked wiser than the one I had gazed at only a few weeks ago.

"Now come over to me. I need to nuzzle into that fresh face," he said pulling me deep into the bed and rubbing his nose along my jaw as he took a deep breath. "How does it feel?"

"Better than you'll ever know," I admitted. Looking at me with quizzical eyes, understanding flittered through the green gems. He knew me better than anyone, and it was proven to me once again as he quickly disrobed under the sheets and threw his clothes to the ground.

Skin to skin contact.

He knew I needed the naked truth. I needed to share my naked truth. Clothes only got in the way.

* * *

**Edit: 2/5/2012**


	17. Giving Thanks

**Giving Thanks**

Edward and I had been working together in the kitchen most of the morning, getting food ready for our Thanksgiving feast. At least, that's what it had morphed into. It was initially going to be just my parents and us, but once Esme, Carlisle, Rosalie, and Emmett found out I was going to come out to my dad that day, they all decided they wanted to be there. At first, I felt uncomfortable with the notion that six people were anxiously waiting for me to spill the beans to my father. I didn't know if I'd be able to relax or even enjoy the day, but the more Edward and I talked about it, the more I realized having the support of everyone would probably make me feel better. I just hoped that people didn't stare at me with expectant eyes all day long. Cooking together was relaxing, but we'd never hosted a holiday with both of our families. It felt really good, like our family recognized Edward and I as the real deal, all except for my father. Okay, we are the real deal, but for our families to be so excited about us, felt great.

My mom and my sister had never been this excited about any of the women I'd brought home. In fact, Mom and I'd been talking on the phone a lot. The support I was receiving from her was something I hadn't expected, and every time we talked, she would ask about Edward and me, her enthusiasm about our relationship growing with each conversation.

I was rolling out the dough for the piecrust while Edward was mixing the apples with all of the spices. Determined to do this holiday right, he'd gotten Esme's famous apple pie recipe from her the previous week. That weekend, we messed around in the kitchen, making sure we could bake it perfectly. We had fun with the dough, but ended up on the kitchen floor covered in flour after he threw a handful into my hair. I didn't really care as I straddled him and pulled the mixing bowl of apples down to the floor and started drizzling the sauce in his hair. We ended up sticky sweet and spent a very long time licking the apple filling off each other's bodies. Needless to say, we never did get the pie baked that day.

There was something about apples and sex with us.

Chuckling at the memory, I shook my head and felt heat rise in my face. "I know exactly what you're thinking about, and I'm thinking the same thing," Edward teased. Turning my head, I saw a spark in his eye that told me we might not get this pie in the oven either if I didn't stop him.

"Can you give me a minute to finish with the crust?" He laughed at my request, nodding while he continued to stir. After getting the crust to the perfect thickness, I laid it in the pie plate before Edward poured the apple filling in. I started in on the top layer, working the dough on the cool countertop while Edward cut away the excess around the plate and started using it to cut out intricate leaves and pumpkins; I guess we were going to have a creative pie. "You know, we could just cut out letters and have the thing say 'Hey Dad, I'm gay,' and then it would be over," I joked.

"Right, because that would make the news all the sweeter to take," he said dryly as I gave one small laugh. "Are you nervous or still determined?"

"Oh, I'm determined. Now let's get this stupid pie done so I can show you just how determined I am," I said winking at him. He helped me gently place the crust on top of the pie, and while I crimped the edges, he placed the embellishments on top. It was a beautiful pie, and I hoped it would taste as good.

Our guests were expected in a few hours, everything that was supposed to be cooking was in the oven, the guest bedroom was ready for my parents, and we had time to relax before the festivities began. I had no plans of relaxing though; I was ready for some very strenuous activities.

"Get in the bedroom and strip. I expect you to be hard and waiting for me when I get in there," I demanded. Edward's eyes grew wide and a half smile appeared before he quickly walked to our bedroom. I smiled to myself as I thought about what I was about to do. It had been weeks since I'd really been in control in our bedroom, and I felt it was time to take it back and not only dominate him, which he loved, but please him and make him beg for me.

When I walked in the room, he was gorgeously laid out in the middle of the bed, arms and legs spread, cock hard and hovering above his stomach. Growling at the sight of him, I quickly disrobed and took a running leap onto the bed. Much to his credit, he didn't flinch or move away, instead he watched me as I started trailing my nose across his body, taking in his scent.

Beginning behind his ear, I trailed down his neck, across his shoulder and darted my tongue out of my mouth to lick along his armpit and down to his inner elbow, leaving kisses as I moved. I repeated my movements on the opposite side of his body, licking and tasting the subtle saltiness that our work in the kitchen had left behind.

"Do you know how beautiful you are spread out like this?" I growled before laving his neck with long laps of my tongue. My hands rested on the bed, next to his ears and my shoulders rolled forward as I straddled his body, my erect penis rubbing against him as my hips dipped with my movements. "I want to tie you up like this so you can't move, and I can have my way with you. Would you like that, Edward? Would you like to be bound and gagged beneath me?"

"Do with me what you want, Jasper. I'm yours," he whispered, and I nearly came as he spoke. His eyes were dark, erotic, and beseeched me to take him. Without a second thought, I climbed off the bed, opened the closet door, grabbed several of my neckties, and began tying each of his limbs to the posts of the head and footboards. I used one to gag his mouth, tying it behind his left ear and another closed off his sense of sight.

"I don't want you to see me, I only want you to feel me and I don't want to hear words, only grunts and moans come out of those pretty lips. Are you okay?" He nodded his head and released a carnal moan around the silk fabric in his mouth. "Fuck Edward. I wish you could see yourself like this, tied up and anxious for me." His hips bucked up beneath me and he tried to say something that I couldn't make out. "What was that Edward?" I asked as he tried to form his words again. "Oh, you want me to take photos of you? Would that turn you on, babe?" I taunted as he strained against his bindings. "Stay there and make sure you keep that erection. I want to see you just as hard when I come back in this room," I said as I walked into the kitchen and living room, gathering objects for our play.

When I arrived back in the bedroom, I remained silent, keeping every sound I generated to a minimum, but Edward stiffened at the anticipation of my touch. I set items on the side table, rounding the bed as I moved, watching his head follow me. He could sense me, feel my presence with his heightened hearing. This made me wonder if he could feel the electricity between us, so I closed my eyes, trying to feel what he must be experiencing, and I sensed the slightest buzz as my hand drew nearer to the bed.

It was too quiet in the room, and I wanted him to be lost in his sense of touch, so I turned on the iPod and found some music that would deprive him of the sounds in the room, increasing the volume to a fevered register. His body visibly relaxed with the sound, relinquishing the desire to hear and instead anticipating my touch all the more. From the table I grabbed a quill and ran the feathery end across his nipples, causing his chest to contract slightly before he leaned into the sensation. I trailed it down his body, tickling muscle and skin, tracing over his eager cock and rounding his sensitive testes. Firmer touches, his body craved and he tried to push into the feather to satisfy his desires, but it was pulled away before his want could be appeased.

Walking around the bed, I leaned into his ear and said only one word, "knife," before picking up the dull butter knife. His breathing increased, chest quickly rising and falling as I trailed the cold metal across his chest, up his inner thigh and along the underside of his cock. His trust in me was obvious as he didn't flinch or pull away, allowing me to tease him with the cold knife. It was evident he wanted more than fleeting touches, he yearned for more robust contact as he shifted his hips, the only part of his body he had control over beside his head.

It was time. He was so hard that the head of his cock was purple, aching with need as his muscles contracted in a slow rhythm. With my camera resting in my hands, I eased the volume of the iPod down, wanting him to hear what I was doing. I wanted him to know how exposed and vulnerable he was for me. When the first photo was taken, his head jerked in my direction and he tried to speak around his gag. Kneeling on the bed, I leaned into his ear and reminded him, "You said you were mine, Edward, and that I could do whatever I wanted. I want to capture this moment so I can show you how gorgeous you look." His face relaxed as he nodded, giving permission to continue so I stood and continued around the bed, finding various angles to showcase his beautiful body in the light streaming thorough the windows.

So many more items sat at my disposal to tease Edward, but I could tell he needed me, needed me to touch him and give him pleasure, so I crawled over his body and allowed my cock to trail up his leg, letting him know I was near. A large sigh and moan was released from the back of his throat as I finally made rough contact with his chest, biting and sucking his nipples. He arched into me, his body begging, so I ran circles around his responsive flesh before taking each nipple back into my wet mouth.

A low growl was let loose as my body moved down his torso, and I knew he wanted me to take his cock deep down my throat when his hips bucked up into me. Not wanting to disappoint, I wrapped my lips around his aching length and dove until I felt him at the back of my throat and his curls pressed firmly against my lips. The tie in his mouth muffled his sounds, and I wanted to hear voice, hear him call my name and beg for me, so I allowed him to slip from my mouth, reached up and untied the knot behind his ear, roughly pulling it away.

"Jasper," he panted, barely able to make sound. "I want you so fucking bad," he admitted as I continued to lick up and down his length, swirling my tongue around his head and tasting the few precious drops his body was willing to offer me. His taste was so good my mouth watered, making my ministrations that much better with the added saliva. Running my wet tongue back and forth along the underside of his cock, he thrust up as I neared the top, forcing himself deep down my throat. He was less helpless than he appeared, knowing just how to appease his needs.

I needed to taste more of him, and it seemed that every few minutes I wanted to untie another restraint; this time it was his feet. This was Edward's specialty, but every time he ate my ass I nearly died from ecstasy, and I wanted to give him that experience. Having done this to him only a few times, I was hesitant but hungry for him.

Once his legs were free, he pulled them into his body while I gently massaged his skin where the ties had bound him to the footboard. I looked down at his rounded cheeks, tracing my fingers along the beautifully full curves and dipping between to touch his soft, pink skin that relaxed the moment I neared. He wanted this as badly and I did, so I lifted his hips off the bed, forcing his knees into his chest and ran my nose along side where he ached to be licked. Gratuitous moans escaped him as I ran my tongue from his tailbone to his balls, wet and hot.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," he cried as I buried my tongue in his inviting body, twisting it to bring him even more delight. "Holy fucking mother of God damn hell, what are you trying to do to me?" he asked, not really expecting me to answer with words but with more movements of my tongue on, around, and in him. I wasn't one to disappoint, so I focused on bringing him the pleasure he had brought me so many times, hoping I could measure up. His head rolled back and forth on the pillow as I rubbed my face on his ass, wetting myself with each pass as my watering mouth couldn't contain itself. While I traced around his sensitive skin, he panted, short and shaky breaths, as his fingers curled and uncurled, wrists twisting in their restraints. Quickly leaning over his body, I untied the neckties on the headboard and kissed around his wrists, trying to soothe the reddening skin before I leaned back to his body, where I tasted him once more.

Never in my life would I have guessed that eating a man's ass would have turned me on, but my cock was so hard at that point that it was painful. I wanted to touch myself desperately, but my desire to taste Edward was so much stronger I barely noticed the pain until I'd released his bonds. Plunging my tongue back into him, trailing it around his relaxed muscle while he knit his fingers through my hair, pulling and twisting was all I needed to forget the discomfort and get lost again in my desire for him.

Frenetic pleas drew my attention away from the feel of the varied textures of his skin on my tongue, and I heard Edward's voice begging me, "Now. Now. I need you … deep … deep … filling me." Sitting back on my heels, I easily slid two fingers into him and started massaging his prostate, slipping in and out of his hot body. He was lost in sensation, and with every motion of my fingers on his sensitive flesh, he uttered nonsense, allowing it to easily spill past his lips.

Lips.

I needed to kiss them.

His parted raspberry lips needed to be tasted and massaged and bitten, so I allowed his lower body to fall to the bed while I crawled toward his inviting mouth and gently traced his lips with the tip of my tongue, all the while leaning on my left forearm, my right hand continuing to pleasure him. With a turn of his head, he invited me to kiss him deeply, plunging his tongue into the deepest reaches of my mouth. His kisses were wild, untamed as he lifted his shoulders and head off the bed, hands frantically pulling me closer to him yet remaining tender so the scars on my back wouldn't be re-injured. Never, had I seen Edward so desperate to be close, and with each thrust of my fingers inside of him, involuntary moans were released.

"More," he implored in a wanton voice, making me crave his eyes. I had to see the need, the desire in his eyes. How badly did he want me? Within moments, his eyes were uncovered and he blinked, trying to focus while I pressed my fingers into him again, curling them and massaging him how he liked.

"Do you want to think about me fucking you all day long, Edward?" He looked at me in confusion. "Hmmmm?" I implored, deciding not to clarify, allowing him to work out the riddle himself.

"All day. I want to think of this all day, Jasper. I want to think of this everyday," he admitted, eyes sincere and intense.

Without a word, I withdrew my fingers from his hot body, pulled his hands to his lap, tied them together, and grabbed the lube and condoms from the side table before dragging Edward to the dining room. "Lay down on your back. I'm going to fuck you here, where everyone'll be sitting today. I want you to look at me at this table and think of your body spread across it," I taunted as he eased his rounded ass on the table and rolled his back down until he rested across it. "Put your hands above your head and don't move them," I insisted. I watched as his hands dropped over the long side of the table, positioning his ass just perfectly in front of me at the edge. "Oh, so beautiful. I would take more photos of you, but I just can't wait to take you. I need to feel you around me. What do you want, Edward?" I asked as I rolled on the condom and applied lube to both of us.

"I want you as deep inside of me as you can go. I want to feel you slip in and out of me. I want to make you come." His eyes were wild, feral, as I slipped into his tight body and pressed in as far as I could go. As tight as he was, he was so ready for me. I slowly withdrew and found a rhythm.

Examining his face, I could see how close Edward was to his climax and knew he wouldn't be able to hold out for me. Having not been stimulated until that moment, I was nowhere near. "Feel me, baby. Don't hold back," I encouraged. The circular strokes my hips moved in were not for me, they were all for him, massaging his prostate to bring him the most pleasure I could. Edward's breathing became erratic, his eyes rolling back, his lids shutting and opening lazily, and soon his mouth dropped open as chesty groans were set free. As much as I wanted to plow his ass, I knew I needed to be patient so I reached for his rock hard cock and wrapped my fingers around his length. That was all it took for Edward's orgasm to overtake his control and beautiful, white cream shot across his stomach with each pump of my hand. His ass clenched around me as he rode the waves of pleasure that overtook his body, causing his breathing to come out in gasps and his shoulders to curl forward.

"So gorgeous," slipped out of my mouth as I thought it, my eyes traveling over his silvery, pale skin, the light dusting of hair on his chest, the beautiful color of his nipples, and the drops of white come trailed across his skin. I reached out, collecting his come, and sucked his tasty offering from my long fingers, slowly withdrawing them from my lips. I was drawn to the lines of muscles in his chest and stomach and had the strongest desire to take his pulsing cock in my mouth and suck him dry, but I resisted, enjoying the sight before me.

The minute his body was done contracting around me, I drove my hips forward, hard and fast. I knew he would slide up the table if I didn't hold on to him so I gingerly set his ankles on my shoulders and wrapped my fingers around his thighs to steady him, pushing hard into his body. His softening cock began to respond again, hardening in front of me while his nipples and skin reacted to the sensations my dick was giving him, pebbling and goose flesh rising.

"Are you going to come for me again, Edward?" He barely nodded, too caught up in the feeling in his body. "If you come, it's not going to be because I'm touching you this time. You need to make it happen by feeling my cock deep in your ass. Can you do that, babe?" He met my eyes and the crazy look in his green orbs told me that touch was the last thing he would need to come. "Fuck. Look at you." I threw my head back, knowing if I looked in his eyes or watched his mouth I would come on the spot, so I started thinking about Renaissance artists and their works.

Not yet.

He needed me to hold out for him, so we could come together. Thrusting my hips forward repeatedly, my body broke into a sweat. When I dared to look down at him again, his eyes were barely open, hands reaching for me, so I untied him. Immediately, he was holding on to the back of my thighs, pulling me even deeper into his body.

Indescribable.

I belonged here, like "The Creation of Man" belonged on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. It was at that moment that he opened his eyes, and I was able to read how close he was, right before he gave me the slightest nod and his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips.

"Fuuuuuuck," exploded from deep within my chest as I released my seed forcefully into the condom while Edward's muscles squeezed around me and his stomach and chest were covered once again. His low groan turned into a growl as we rode out our mutual orgasms. Shakily, I collapsed on top of Edward's body, letting his legs slip down my arms and hang off the table. My legs quivered, muscles crying out, and I felt Edward's warm embrace as he slid his hands around my shoulders and threaded his fingers in my hair. Violently, our breath moved through our chests as our bodies tried to recover from the expenditure of energy we so readily put into each other. Small beads of sweat trickled down my skin, gathering into a wet pool at the small of my back.

Our lips met the skin it was nearest, mine pressing into the sensitive flesh of his neck and his lips kissing my temple. Saltiness entered my mouth as my tongue swept my lips. "You taste so good. Have I told you that lately?" I whispered in his ear before lifting myself to crush my lips to his in long, languorous kisses I didn't want to end.

But the kisses had to end when the buzzer went off in the kitchen, telling us it was time to get back to work. I groaned at the thought of having to keep my hands to myself until I told my father I was gay. Knowing me, I'd try to be discreet until he left the house, but my physical need to touch Edward often overrode my very logical decisions.

"We really need to get in the shower, but what do we need to do first?" I asked, deferring to Edward's culinary skills.

After grabbing a towel from the kitchen and hastily wiping off our stomachs, he washed his hands and talked over his shoulder at me. "Go get the shower started. I'll be right in as soon as I move a few things around in the oven."

Only a few minutes later, we were standing under the shower, washing each other's hair and bodies and touching skin so we were nearly hard again. With Edward facing the showerhead, I pressed my chest into his back and wrapped my arms around his waist, my dick resting between his cheeks. I stopped all movement and simply held him there as I rested my chin on this shoulder while he placed his hands on top of mine.

"Are you ready for this, love?" he asked as he leaned his head against mine. I nodded, tucking my chin into his muscle and gently placing my lips on his water-warmed skin. "Is there anything you want to talk about before everyone gets here?"

I trailed open mouth kisses up his neck, stopping at his ear before traveling back down to taste the skin on his shoulders, effectively shaking my head. "There's nothing left to say. I think it's all been said. Do you have anything?" I questioned, suddenly wondering if he was nervous, never having considered that at all.

"I think the thing I'm most worried about is that the turkey will be dry and that the pie won't be as good as when mom makes it," he joked as he turned in my arms to face me while I laughed and pushed his wet hair off of his forehead and caught the drips about to assault his eyes. He took my lower lip between his teeth, gently sucking for a moment before he admitted, "I'm afraid of your father's temper. I just don't want him to hurt you, and I don't know him well enough to know that won't happen. Actually, you could say I don't trust him. It's really that simple."

What could I say to that? I didn't trust him either, but I had to take what my mother had told me about his anger and use that to bolster my courage. Nodding at Edward and giving a small smile, I tried to let him know I understood his fears without betraying the kernel of doubt that I had in the back of my mind.

Taking a deep breath, Edward continued, "But, I haven't seen your dad in years, and no matter what, you're going to be with six other people who love and support you. We won't let anything happen to you. Now, let's get dressed and get the dining room cleaned up. I think we have only about fifteen minutes before someone is bound to ring the door bell." He reluctantly turned off the water and handed me a towel.

When the doorbell rang twenty-five minutes later, we greeted Rosalie and Emmett who were laden with several six packs of imported beer, or as Emmett liked to call it, our _snob_ beer. Just as I was about to close the door I saw Carlisle and Esme pull in the driveway. When they came to the door, they had a bottle of wine in hand, and we all headed to the kitchen to get the alcohol chilling.

Just as I closed the refrigerator, the doorbell rang. I couldn't help the sharp intake of breath I took in, and Edward walked up to me, took my face in his hands and looked deep into my eyes. "You deserve to have him know the real you," he said before pulling me to his mouth briefly. Instinctively my arms wrapped around him and I squeezed, probably harder than I should have before I headed to the door and quickly opened it.

My mom stood in front of my father, her blonde hair curling more than usual in the humid air, and her blue eyes stared up at me with excitement and hesitation. My father towered over her right shoulder, dark blond hair severely cut so he looked like he was still in the military, and keeping perfect posture as he held a paper grocery sack in his arms that looked as if it were very heavy. Looking me up and down, his eyes finally settled on my face as he said my name in greeting and told me I looked well. My mother took me in her arms and held me tight for a few seconds longer than she would've normally. Reaching out his hand, my father shook mine, and I invited them into our home before I relieved my father of his heavy load.

"Cripps Pinks," I exclaimed, looking into the bag and finding my favorite apple. "Thanks. I love these." Reaching in the bag, I pulled out a perfectly shiny pink skinned apple and brought it to my mouth, about to take a bite, when Edward's hand snatched it away from me. I looked at him with incredulity, but saw playfulness in his face.

"Dinner is in a few minutes. I think the apple can wait, don't you?"

"Yeah," I admitted but not without acting a bit petulant, causing Edward to shake his head, smirk, and roll his eyes before taking the heavy bag into the kitchen. "Happy Thanksgiving," I said to my parents, taking their coats and hanging them up. "Make yourselves at home. Beer and wine are in the kitchen."

#

It wasn't long before we were all gathered around the table Edward and I had hastily set, though you wouldn't have guessed it by the amount of plates, stemware, flatware, and intricately folded napkins on its surface. The table really screamed "gay" to me, but I guess if the shoe fit….

Carlisle and my father, Jack, sat at the ends of the table with Rosalie, Emmett, and my mom on one side with Esme, Edward, and me on the other. I sat closest to my father, across from my mom. Originally, I felt that Edward had over-thought the seating arrangement, but in the end realized this would be best. It would allow me time to talk to my father throughout the meal about safe, innocuous topics so I could more easily relax and ease into coming out to him.

After a little ritual of sharing what we were thankful for, Carlisle started to carve the bird. I wanted to say I was thankful for my newfound love but ended up talking about my recovery and the help I had in that process. Edward was thankful for his true friends, and as he shared, he reached over and squeezed my knee. I knew what he really meant. Our conversation flowed freely as dishes were passed and plates were filled.

"So, who did the cooking?" Esme asked as we all ate.

"We both did, actually," Edward shared. "The turkey was my responsibility so if it's dry, that's my fault. Jasper did most of the side dishes, but I was his sous-chef. I think I even showed him a thing or two with the blade," he teased, hitting me on the shoulder. "And, we both worked on the pie. I just hope it's as good as yours, Mom."

"I'm sure it will be. It's a pretty straightforward recipe with little room for error." As I took a drink of wine, she reached for the spinach salad and asked, "Did you boys already toss the salad?"

I choked on my wine, coughing loudly, trying to clear my airway as Edward patted me on the back and tried hard not to smirk. Emmett looked over at us and as soon as he saw the looks on our faces, a knowing grin crossed his face.

_Oh, dear God. Do not say a word, Emmett._

My eyes implored him to keep his thoughts to himself, and as I finally cleared my airway and took another drink of wine, I saw Rosalie had given him a stern look and he quickly wiped the smile from his face. By that point though, Carlisle and Esme had figured out what I had reacted to and were giving each other informed glances before returning their attention to my mom and dad.

Carlisle put on his formal, social voice and asked my parents, "So how was your trip up today? Did you have a good drive?"

"The roads were good," my father answered. "It's always nice to get behind the wheel and go for awhile. I do love the drive into Seattle." He paused and looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know Jasper, I think we saw some ads you must've done on a few billboards on our way in. Did you do a shoot for an underwear company?" he sneered at the end of his question.

"Yeah. I did that a few months ago. I haven't seen the campaign yet. Where was it?"

"There were two, both on I-5 on our way into town," my mom said with a doe-eyed expression. "I was navigating and looked up and saw this huge image of you. I knew it was you because of your curly hair, but it was from … um … behind. Several miles down the road I saw another billboard and that one was of you facing forward with another man," she dropped her voice near the end of her sentence and coughed into her cloth napkin.

Carlisle beamed at the other end of the table and set his wine glass down after taking an abbreviated sip. "I know the one you're talking about. I saw that on the way back from Forks last week. I had to go and take care of some business at our house there and on my way home I saw it. Jasper's being embraced by a man who's resting his head on his shoulder and Jasper's looking down, right?" Both my parents nodded, my mom with acceptance and my father with disgust smeared across his lips. "I really liked the contrast of that shot with the light and dark hair of the men and also the different color underwear. The play of the shadow really help play up the contrast too. It's such a beautiful photograph."

"But Jasper," my father forced out, "how could you let a strange man put his arms around you like that … like … I didn't like it. It made me uncomfortable."

"Well Dad," I said in a soft, respectful voice, "I model. Part of my job is to listen to the director and help him get the shots they need. The client, in this case, wanted a really intimate pose with two male models so they could appeal to women and gay men. I guess they buy a lot of underwear and after some market research, they found the image on that billboard was most appealing to those markets."

"I get that, Jasper, but how can you let a stranger touch you like that and then have that plastered all over the country? You could even see your face in the shot. Think of the people we know who saw that." My father said, not hiding the disgust and embarrassment in his voice.

"Dad!" Rosalie glared at him, warning him to keep his opinions to himself before she softened her tone. "I don't know if you looked very closely at the billboard, but that 'strange' man you're talking about, was actually Edward."

A knife could have cut the tension in the room. Esme was looking at Carlisle, pleading with her eyes for him to step in and say something. Rose was angry, while Emmett looked delighted by the entire situation, which made Rose even angrier. Edward was holding onto my knee under the table, trying to soothe me with his touch, and my mother looked mortified, like she wanted to crawl under the table because of my father's display.

My father's eyes shot to me and then flitted to Edward before settling back on me. I wasn't about to let him get the upper hand so I had to say something to help diffuse the situation.

"You guys know it's me because I'm your son. The rest of you know it's me because I told you about the shoot, but I highly doubt that General Jones is going to know your son is being held by a man in some underwear ad on I-5. All you really see is my profile, from what I remember of the shoot."

"When did you start modeling, Edward?" my mom asked, trying to change the subject a little without making the shift too obvious.

"Actually, that was the one and only time I've modeled besides in the art studio. I went to the shoot with Jasper and the other model didn't show. I had a crash course in modeling that day, and I only saw the shots on a tiny monitor during the shoot." He looked at me and smiled his gorgeous smile. "Have you seen the billboards, cuz we should go and check it out."

"No, I haven't."

That must have been an invitation for the rest of the people at the table to talk, or else the tension was finally relieved the moment Edward's face lit up, but everyone started talking about the beauty of the images and how great they were. Everyone, that is, except my father. He sat in his seat, contemplating the stuffing and cranberries as he pushed his last few bites of turkey around his plate. Sensing disaster, I decided to shift the topic to something that had nothing to do with me.

"So, Emmett, when are you going to finally ask Rosalie to marry you?" Emmett looked at me and burst out laughing, knowing exactly what I was doing.

"Oh, I don't know Jasper. When are you getting married?"

And the attention was back on me with a subject even more uncomfortable to talk about. He was good. He was really good. I raised my arms up and shook my head.

"Edward, will you help me in the kitchen with the pie?" I was dying to get out of there and from the look on his face, so was he. We each grabbed a few serving bowls and empty plates before heading toward the kitchen. Esme and my mom quickly joined us with the rest of the dirty plates and a few reassuring looks and comforting touches.

I cut and plated the warm pie while Edward scooped vanilla bean ice cream out of the gallon pail. Our mothers left us, and I was glad to have these few minutes alone with Edward, even if all we did was breathe the same air. Edward's hand slipped around my waist and his lips pressed into the skin behind my ear. "Relax, love. It's going well," he whispered into my ear as he moved behind me and massaged my shoulders, helping me release the tension I didn't realize I'd been holding. "Now, let's go back in there and enjoy this wonderful apple pie we worked so hard on, okay?" I nodded and grabbed two plates in each hand before heading back to the dining room to serve everyone.

"Homemade apple pie," I said as I set plates down in front of people. Everyone tucked in and delightful noises and compliments filled the room. Edward and I looked at each other and smiled as he reached for my hand under the table, giving it a little squeeze.

Esme beamed, winked, and nodded her head letting us know that we did a good job on her famous pie. "I don't think I could have done better, boys. It's delicious," Esme said.

"This is a new table, isn't it?" my mom asked.

"Yes, Elise," Edward answered as his face suddenly flushed, ears turning bright red under his shock of bronze hair. I smiled at his coloring and felt the heat start to rise up from my chest to my neck too as I pictured him lying across it earlier that afternoon. "I bought this about a year ago. I couldn't resist it when I saw it at a flea market. We were lucky to have Jasper's truck with us that day."

"It looks so sturdy, and the birdseye maple is very beautiful," she continued, rubbing the smooth surface of the tabletop right where Edward's ass had been resting a few hours ago.

"Uhm … it's a very sturdy table," Edward said, his voice breaking on the last word. Reaching back under the table, I took his hand and slowly rubbed my thumb over his knuckles, trying to calm and relax him, as everyone finished their dessert and coffee oblivious to what we were recalling.

"I was thinking we could head into the living room. I'll build a fire, and you can have some wine or beer while Edward and I quickly get this cleaned up." I stood and led everyone into the living room and started some soothing music to set the mood, getting everyone's drink orders before I returned to the kitchen. When I arrived in the living room to build the fire I listened to the relaxed conversation our families were having and felt myself ease a bit. Everyone was getting along, and Emmett was cracking jokes my father really appreciated.

As quick as we could, Edward and I cleaned up the kitchen and dining room, passing each other several times, bodies brushing and responding to the touches. When we ended up at the sink with our hands busy with china, I finally had to break the silence. "Could the signs have been any more obvious? I mean, do you think my dad has any fucking clue? Tossing the salad, nearly naked underwear photos, a sturdy table that's perfect for fucking on, and our faces as red as tomatoes … oh, and we just so happened to fuck on it right before they got here. Seriously!" I was exasperated with myself for allowing my emotions to get the better of me.

"I don't know, Jasper," he said, shaking his head and giving a tight smile. "It really doesn't matter if it was obvious does it? I mean, you're about to tell him anyway, right? Or have you changed your mind?" He turned his head to me, shifting his weight to his right hip as he leaned away from me and studied me.

Looking into his face made me feel guilty that I was even feeling doubtful, so I looked down at the bubbles where my hands were submerged. He was trying so hard not to betray his feelings of desperation at the thought that I may have changed my mind. I knew he wanted me to come out to my father, but he wanted me to come out so I could be free from the burden of the secret I had to hold inside my heart. He knew what it had done to me and knew if I kept it in today, it would bother me even more than it had to date.

"I need to do this. I _will_ do this." I met his eyes again and was surprised to see his face showing … cockiness? Spinning his dishtowel into a coil, he wrapped it behind my neck and pulled me into a gentle kiss before letting me go and smacking me on the ass with the towel, causing me to flinch. "You don't have to be violent, you know? You could be sweet and supportive," I joked. Edward started humming as the devil played behind his eyes, and soon he was smirking and singing to me, all the while taunting me with the towel in a his funny, playful way.

_You change you mind  
__Like a girl changes clothes  
__'Cause you're hot then you're cold  
__You're yes then you're no  
__You're in then you're out  
__You're up then you're down*_

"Come on, Edward. Stop it!"

"What? You're changing your mind, right?" he teased. "Make up your mind and I'll quit singing." Setting the towel down on the counter he turned to me and got very serious, playful Edward vanishing. "Decide and either do it or don't, but the longer you drag this out, the worse it's going to be. A few hours ago you were completely ready, and now you're freaked again. What changed?" he demanded.

I stood there watching the soap bubbles pop around my hands as I thought about what he said. "Nothing's changed, except that he's actually here now. I'm still afraid of him, Edward, and it's obvious he's going to take issue with this if he can't even accept the fucking ad we did." Picking up the last plate, I washed and rinsed it, handing it to Edward to dry. I allowed the water to drain and wiped up the drips of water that had collected around the sink before I washed the counter tops off and hung the rag to dry.

Resting with my hands on the edge of the sink, I leaned into the counter, my shoulders hunched up around my ears, looking at my reflection in the chrome faucet.

_Who are you?_

That wasn't the first time I'd asked myself that question, but this time when I looked back at myself, I knew immediately who I was. I was a gay man who was in love with the man standing next to me, the man with the bronze hair whose face was reflected back next to my own image. I was a man who was afraid of his father for something he'd done years before. I was a man who hadn't had his father in his life for years, so what difference did it really make, except that I wanted to give him the chance to know the real me.

It was time.

Edward must've seen a change come over my face because he rested his hand on the small of my back and leaned into me, laying his head on my shoulder. "I'll be right there next to you, love. I won't leave you for one second. My mom, my dad, your mom, Rosalie, and Emmett … they're all here for you too. We're all prepared if something bad happens, Jasper, but we're ready if something great happens too. So, whenever you're ready," he soothed, dropping his voice as he reached for my cheek and turned my face to his, capturing my lips in his luscious mouth for a tender, moist kiss that forced my eyes shut with the potency of it. His touch healed me again. I wondered if Edward would always be my stress reliever.

"I love you so much, Edward"

"I love you too."

Before I could change my mind, I grabbed us each a beer from the fridge and headed to the living room to join our families. When we arrived, the conversation had turned back to the photo shoot. Sitting on our couch were my mom and dad while Rosalie and Emmett sat on the floor near the fireplace, Rosalie resting her back on his chest. Carlisle and Esme sat on the leather chairs. That left the two chairs Edward had brought in the house from the patio for us to sit in. I reluctantly took the seat, not entirely comfortable sitting when the discussion was heating up as quickly as it seemed to be. Edward sat back comfortably in his chair, crossing one knee over the other, looking the picture of calm. I knew he was doing this to help me feel more at ease, but there was little hope with the direction the conversation was going. My father was still upset about the shot with Edward and was enthusiastically expressing his concern that people from Forks and his current job would know it was me on the billboard. Carlisle and Rosalie were trying to talk him down by mentioning the artistic quality of the shot, but with little success.

"I just don't think that it's right to have two men in their underwear touching each other like that on billboard alongside the highway. It's immoral. I'm sorry if I offend you Edward. I know you're gay, but it just goes against everything I've been taught. That picture doesn't represent the morals I passed down to my children."

Staring at my father as he spoke, the rest of the room seemed to filter away as anger built inside me. I started to see red. I couldn't believe he had the audacity to talk like this in Edward's house, of all places, and in the company that he was with. I saw Carlisle's mouth moving as well as Rosalie's but had no idea what they said. My mom, Esme, and Emmett's heads volleyed back and forth as the conversation continued without my ears catching on. Edward's eyes remained on me.

"Dad," I warned between clenched teeth, "I think you've said enough." Edward's hand dropped between our chairs and his fingers opened and closed, begging me to grab them, but I tore my eyes away when my father talked again.

"No, Jasper, I don't think I've said nearly enough if you think that posing practically nude for all the world to see in a fucking homo ad is okay," my father's voice started to raise. I saw my mother's arm reach for him to try to calm him down, but he shoved her hand away roughly. "It's fine if Edward wants to do this sort of stuff. He's gay, and from what I've seen has no problem letting the world know about it. But you aren't, and you shouldn't be associated with things like that."

"What the hell does that mean?" I shouted as I sat on the edge of my seat. "Is there something wrong with Edward? Do you have a problem with Edward, because he means more to me than anyone. He's been there for me through every single thing I've gone through. That's more than I can say for you. You didn't even fucking visit me in the God damned hospital. Do you know I nearly fucking died that night? And where were you? I don't fucking know or care, but Edward was right there doing everything in his power to stop the bleeding, covering himself in my blood. Do you have a problem with Edward, Dad, because if you have a problem with Edward then you have a problem with me."

"No, Jasper, I don't have a problem with Edward. I have a problem with the lifestyle he's chosen," he said, attempting to sate me with his words.

My jaw dropped open as I gasped. "Chosen! You think being gay is something someone simply chooses, like what color socks they put on in the morning or whether they take cream in their coffee? Did you choose to be straight? Cuz, if you chose to be straight I'd really like hear about that whole process. Choice … there is no fucking choice in the matter, and I resent you using that word."

Edward reached over to my shoulder and squeezed it, trying to get me to calm down. While his touch helped relax my body, my mood was too elevated to come down without skin to skin contact.

"Sorry, I should use different words. So you don't believe there's a choice in sexual preference then," he said before quickly changing his tack. "These photos are the sort of thing that come back to haunt people later in their lives. What about your career?"

"What about my career? I'm a fucking artist, Dad! I've posed nude in the art studio on numerous occasions and you didn't have an issue with that. Do you really think the artistic community is going to care if I took a few photos in my underwear with Edward?" My anger was building fast, and the inferno in my gut was burning deep and raw.

"Yes!" His anger nearly matched mine, and I reached down to grasp Edward's fingers hidden between our chairs. "Just because you're an artist doesn't mean you're going to live in some commune painting all day. You're going to work for a business where ethics are important. When they find ads like that, what will they think? People are going to think you're a cock sucker!" he spat at me, eyes blazing and oblivious to the audience in the room.

"Fine! Good! I don't really care what they think. In fact, let them think that, because they'd be right, Dad. I'm gay, and I _am _a cock sucker. I suck cock and I like it. In fact, I love it."

He was silent and when he turned toward my mom, he looked at her with fury. I was afraid he was going to do something to her and knew then that I had to draw his attention away from her, so I stood up and continued to hold Edward's hand in mine while he remained seated. "If I had to choose between getting my cock sucked, or sucking a cock, I'd take that thick muscle in my mouth every time and I'd love every single second of it," I taunted, so fed up that all decorum had gone out the window.

My father's jaw dropped, and before I knew what happened, he stood up, grabbed the iron poker from the fireplace, and raised it above his head. Edward was at my side in an instant. Emmett leaped to his feet and grabbed the fireplace tool from his hand with Rosalie right behind. "Mr. Whitlock, I don't think this needs to come to violence." Emmett's words only seemed to set him off even stronger, but at least he no longer had a weapon in his hand, and Rosalie moved all the other fireplace tools away. I stood my ground and showed him I was no longer afraid of him.

Stalking toward me and pointing his finger into my chest, he glared at me and hollered, "What the hell do you mean, you're gay? I didn't raise a faggot! I didn't raise a fucking cock sucker!" There were unshed tears in his eyes and a scowl on his face as he looked to my mom, Rosalie, and then back to me.

In a softer tone and with as much sincerity as I could muster at the moment, I stood up tall, looked him straight in the eye and told him, "Dad, I am a gay man." Pulling my hand up that was still holding on to Edward's, I drew him closer to me and looked at our entwined fingers. "Edward and I are partners, and I love him."

Just when I thought the tears were going to break their barrier and tumble down his cheeks, my father's face turned into a nasty sneer and the tears seemed to vanish. This was unadulterated loathing directed at me, but I realized too late what was happening to respond. In less than a second, I felt myself being pulled back and saw Edward's nest of hair standing in front of me before his head was thrown backwards as my father punched him. I knew that hit was meant for me.

Emmett's arms wrapped around my father's chest and he was being dragged toward the front door with Rosalie close behind. My arms instinctually reached out as Edward fell into me, all of his weight landing against my body as I lost balance and we slid to the ground. He was partially unconscious, eyelids fluttering as his eyes rolled into the back of his head and swelling immediately started on the side of his face. Carlisle was kneeling next to me within seconds, trying to revive his son while my mother was shedding silent tears on the couch. A bag of frozen corn wrapped in a dishtowel was handed to me by Esme, and I immediately placed it on Edward's swelling eye.

What the hell had I done?

I turned Thanksgiving into a fucking disaster because I had to taunt my father, and now Edward was unconscious in my lap. Tears slid down my face at my realization and landed on Edward's forehead.

"Oh, Jasper, honey," Esme soothed and wrapped her arms around me from behind. "Don't cry. Edward will be fine and your father just needs some time."

"Jasper," my mom said in a strong, renewed voice. "Don't let him get to you. Esme's right. He needs some time. He should never have insulted you, Edward, or even the photo you did together. He's an unenlightened man who can't see past the nose on his face. Don't worry about him. Rosalie was prepared if this happened. She and Emmett are going to take him to a hotel. I even packed separate suitcases for each of us. So I'll be staying here tonight if that's okay."

Looking up at my mom as I spoke, I watched Carlisle examine Edward out of the corner of my eye, while my fingers tangled through my love's soft hair. "So you thought something like this might happen? You packed two bags? Am I missing something here?" I pinched the bridge of my nose while I shook my head, not believing what I just heard. "You know, I don't … I don't … right now all that matters is Edward." Turning my attention to Carlisle, I asked, "Is he going to be okay, Dr. Cullen? Carlisle, please?" I begged.

"Yes, he'll be fine, Jasper. See, he's already coming to." I studied Edward and saw his eyes fluttering open as he pulled away from the cold corn that I held to his face. His hand went toward his forehead and his brow wrinkled in pain as he groaned.

"Are you okay, babe?" I asked, looking down at him. He simply nodded and tried to sit up so I helped support his weight, scooting closer to him and inviting him to lean against my chest.

I heard the shouts and protests of my father out in the front yard, as Rosalie and Emmett tried to calm him down and talk to him. Pushing their voices from my ears, I focused all my attention on Edward, placing soft kisses along his neck. Carlisle continued to examine Edward, checking his eyes with a small penlight.

"That eye is going to be very bruised and swollen." Carlisle said. "Are you in much pain, Edward? Dizzy? Nauseas?"

"Not really. It hurts a bit, but I'm not dizzy. No need for a puke bucket. I'm more surprised than anything."

"Surprised?" I enthusiastically asked. "You threw yourself in the way of a mad man so he wouldn't hit me and you're surprised?" The vision of my father's face flashed before me and I shuddered.

Edward started to chuckle against my chest before he said, "No. I guess not surprised about that. I pretty much asked for that. I'm just surprised it went so bad so quickly."

My mom stood up and kneeled in front of Edward, placing her hands on his knees and looking into his eyes with sincerity. "I am so sorry about this Edward. I thought he'd changed, but it's obvious he still holds a lot of animosity toward gay men." Looking to me and reaching for my shoulder she continued to talk to both of us. "If I had any idea he'd get so out of control, I wouldn't have allowed this to happen. I'm thankful Rosalie talked me into reserving a room and packing separately. I guess her faith in him wasn't as strong as mine. I'm going to go outside and try to talk to him. Why don't you go lie down on your bed Edward? Just go rest for a few minutes."

Within moments, my mom had her coat on and was headed out the front door while Esme was handing Edward a glass of water and two ibuprofen. "Take this now, before any pain sets in. It'll help with the swelling too." He readily reached for the pills and greedily swallowed them down with the cold water before he pulled himself to his feet. I allowed him to stand on his own even though my instinct was to hold onto his arm and help him walk.

"Any dizziness or light headedness?" Carlisle asked again before Edward shook his head and walked steadily to our bedroom.

"I'm gonna go lay down with him for a bit," I said before imploring, "Please, make yourselves at home. Television, wine, beer, books. Anything. I'm sure we'll be out in a bit, but please don't go home yet. We need you here, and more importantly, we need to have some good memories from this day." Both Carlisle and Esme nodded and reassured us they'd stay.

"We won't leave, Jasper," Carlisle promised. "I want to make sure Edward doesn't have a concussion, and we want to be here for you. We love you guys." He pulled me into a warm embrace, rubbing my back, and as he pulled away, he kissed me on the forehead. That was more affection than my father had ever shown me. Esme wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled herself up on her toes to kiss me on the cheek before she gestured for me to retreat to our room with Edward.

When I arrived in our room, Edward was already laying down on his back with the frozen corn resting across his eye and cheek. I slid in next to him, wrapping my arms around him and peppering him with kisses on the uninjured side of his face, making him smile and laugh. Our legs tangled in their natural and familiar way, allowing me to pull him closer to my body and feel the electric buzz of our connection, causing the tension in my body to melt into the soft mattress below me.

"What possessed you to take a hit for me, babe?" Knowing he was hurting because of my big mouth getting out of control really pissed me off. If I'd just kept my fucking mouth shut, this would've never happened.

"You've been afraid of him too long, Jasper, and when I saw him grab that fireplace poker, I knew I'd never let him hurt you again. It was my job to protect you, and I'm glad I did. Now don't give yourself a guilt trip over this. I can see it in your eyes already. You think you provoked him, don't you?" I nodded at his perception. "We can't change the past. He obviously has an issue with homosexuality on any level, even the mere hint of it on a fucking ad, so the fact his own son is gay … well, that's going to cause a pretty strong reaction whether you mentioned you like sucking cock or not." His face lit up in a bright smile, and he started to laugh, freeing me to laugh at the situation too.

"No regrets," I stated. "It's done, and I'm glad it's done. Now let me lay here and hold you. I get to take care of you now."

We sat in the silence of our room, resting on the comfortable bed when the sound from outside started to trickle in through the window. Our eyes met as we listened to the discussion, straining to catch every word, our breathing coming in slow, shallow breaths so the sounds could come to us.

"He's your son, Jack," Carlisle beseeched. "He's the same man you thought he was when you walked through that door this afternoon. Nothing's changed. He's a fine, respectable young man. He's talented, honest, kind, and charming. He's a loyal and genuine friend. He's everything any father would want his son to be, but you're going to throw all of that away because of who he fucks? That changes nothing."

"Like hell it doesn't! It changes everything!" His words stung me, and I felt tears well in my eyes. Edward turned to me and kissed them away, not allowing them to fall as his fingers gently pulled at my curls.

"Don't listen, love," he whispered. I shook my head, needing to hear every word.

"Jack!" My mother's voice rang out in a tone I hadn't heard since my childhood. "He's not one of your soldiers. He isn't expected to follow our military's crazy don't ask, don't tell rules. He's your son, and he never signed on for that. If you'd spent _any_ time getting to know him over the last several years, you'd have seen how unhappy he was. He's been miserable trying to live up to your expectations and then something happened. I don't know what it was, but he's changed. Jasper's become happy and content and finally confident in who he is, and I think that's because of his relationship with Edward. I've never seen him so comfortable in his own skin, and if that contentment came because he realized he's gay, then I'm glad. I'm proud to have a gay son, and I'll tell everyone I know about it because I'm pleased he was honest with himself in spite of the pressure you put him under. He could've been this happy for years if you hadn't bullied him, taunted him, and physically injured him, and I resent you for taking that happiness from him."

There was silence, and I imagined my father looking at the ground and around at all the faces beside him. I'm sure he felt cornered and ready to pounce, but he didn't.

"Daddy," Rosalie quietly spoke, "Jasper and Edward really love each other, and Mom is right. Jasper has never been this happy. It's like he found himself. He told you he was gay because he thought you had a right to know the real Jasper. What he did in there wasn't easy for him. He's been worrying about this for months. It's been eating him up, but he faced his fears tonight because he loves you and wanted to give you a chance to love him for who he is, not for who you think he is. And he's tired of hiding. You're the last person that he was hiding from, and I guess you proved why he felt he had to hide in the first place. But he found the strength to push past his fears. Now it's your turn."

"I know this came as a shock to you, Jack," Carlisle started, "but we've been there. We have many friends who've been just as shocked as you when their sons came out, and we have resources for you. Elise knows all about them. You aren't alone in this."

The voices quieted becoming more difficult to hear, and I quit straining to listen after a few minutes. The joy I felt, listening to my mom, my sister, and Carlisle stand up for me was immense. It made my chest swell, and when I met Edward's eyes, I could see he felt the same as me.

Very carefully, I removed the bag of not-so-frozen corn from his eye and looked at the damage my father had caused, leaning in to kiss around his wound. "I'm so sorry." He shook his head and pulled me to his eager mouth, not allowing me to continue my unnecessary apology.

Languorous and sweet, our lips met before teasing tongues darted out to find open mouths. My hand reached for his face, staying away from his eye, and I gently stoked the soft skin in front of his ear with my thumb while my fingers laced through his silky hair. It didn't matter what my father thought at that moment. All that mattered was the man lying beneath me, the man that was holding me, the man that made my life something to be thankful for.

Over my shoulder, I heard my father clear his voice in the doorway to our bedroom. I wasn't going to allow him to dictate my actions anymore, so I continued to kiss Edward for a moment more, rested my forehead on his, and told him I loved him before I turned to my father. His eyes were studying the ground as if it were very interesting before he looked to us on the bed.

"Jasper, I want to apologize for losing my temper, being so rude, and ruining your Thanksgiving. Edward, I'm sorry I hurt you. I acted poorly and I'm sorry. This isn't something I can just accept right away. I need some time."

"Dad, I didn't ever expect you to immediately accept it. All I wanted was for you to have the opportunity to know the truth. I'll give you time."

"Thank you, Jasper. I'm going to go check into the hotel now. Thank you for your hospitality and the lovely meal. You boys sure know how to cook."

Edward and I climbed off the bed and made our way to the doorway as my father reached for Edward's hand and then shook mine as well with a sheepish look on his face. My arm slid around Edward's waist and I held his right hand in mine, no longer willing to be self conscious of our touch or to be without the physical connection I craved. Looking at our display, my father smirked and looked in my eyes. I gave him a smile to let him know how I felt with Edward. He needed to see the joy this man brought me, and I believe he did because his eyes softened as the turned to leave.

* * *

*Hot N Cold by Katy Perry

**Edit: 2/5/2012**


	18. Artistic Union

**Artistic Union**

After my father left Thanksgiving night along with Rosalie and Emmett, the rest of us played board games until nearly ten, when my mother finally decided to call it a night, effectively breaking up the party. I was wound up, and as soon as Carlisle and Esme drove away, I asked Edward if he wanted to go on a walk around the block.

It was a chilly night so we bundled up in our warm jackets and threw on scarves for good measure. The sidewalk was covered with colorful leaves, most of them still crunchy beneath our feet since it hadn't rained in several days, and the wind had dried them out. We held hands as we trudged through the blanket of foliage, silently taking in the night around us.

As we rounded the corner at the end of our block, Edward stopped under a clearing in the trees and pulled me backward into his chest, resting his chin on my shoulder. I felt his soft breath wash across my neck and ear sending enticing shivers through my body, not from cold, but from the anticipation of his skin on mine. Slowly, he brought his right arm up and pointed to the dark sky that was speckled with the few stars we could see in the midst of Seattle.

"It's the new moon tonight, did you know that?" he asked, moving his head so his nose was resting on the shell of my ear. "Do you know why the new moon is so significant?" I shook my head slightly, hoping he'd speak again, and I'd be able to hear the smooth velvet that was his voice.

"The new moon is a time for new beginnings and fresh starts. It's a time of rebirth, and what you did tonight was just that. You cut the umbilical cord from your parents, and now you're taking your first steps as a free man. What does it feel like, love?" He asked in a small but sure voice.

"It feels great, especially since I have you," I confessed, turning in his arms, my mouth meeting his, our lips a perfect fit as our tongues moved in harmony. Pulling away, I reached with lithe fingers and gently touched around the swelling of his black eye before he drew back when I hit a sore spot. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to make it worse. Do you need more ice?"

"No, the cold air helps, and I think my skin needs a break. Come on, let's keep walking before we freeze," he said as he pulled my hand and continued around the block. We walked in silence, smelling the scents of fall around us, and soon we were back in front of our dark blue bungalow, but rather than heading into the house, Edward led me to the backyard and unlocked the door to the studio.

"I thought we could warm up in here and talk for a little bit before we go back in the house. We'll just have more privacy out here." He laid down on the Barcelona daybed and patted the supple leather next to him, encouraging me to recline beside him.

We lay on our backs, eyes looking up into the large overhead windows to study the stars in the inky sky, breathing slowing and involuntarily matching each other's pace. The smell of wood, graphite, and leather permeated the room, giving it an earthy feel, which made me feel even more grounded and safe in Edward's arms.

It smelled like home.

It felt like home.

In that moment, I realized I felt more at home in Edward's house than I'd ever felt in my parent's. Rolling my body toward him, I scooted down the bed and buried my face in his chest, feeling the physical comfort that matched the emotional ease he gave me. His hand threaded through my hair, relaxing me even further as we rested in silence for several minutes.

"I actually have something for you. I bought this, knowing that at some point you might want to mark the day you were finally free." He moved to sit up and I sat with him, resting my feet on the maple flooring. Walking over to his desk, he reached into a drawer, pulling out a simple flat box, much like the archival boxes we occasionally placed our work in for long term storage.

Edward quickly sat next to me on the bed and placed the black box on my lap, gesturing for me to open it. I was embarrassed that he bought me something for coming out, especially when all I'd done when he walked out of the closet was not talk to him for nearly two months. The guilt I felt was washed away the moment he smiled at me, and I realized this wasn't the time to start keeping score.

I lifted the lid off the box, setting it on the bed before I pulled back the black tissue paper surrounding something hard. As soon as it was revealed, my fingers reached out to trace the delicate embossing, running my fingers along the labyrinth that had been pressed into the cover of a new sketchbook.

"I thought it would be nice to start a new sketchbook today. When I found out the new moon was on Thanksgiving, and that you were going to really tell your father, I wanted to find something that would symbolize your new start." Following the path of the maze, Edward's fingers brushed against mine while I did the same. "It's one of the sketches you did when you were healing. I found a bookmaker in the city who helped me personalize it."

I was at a loss for words. Edward knew me better than anyone, and he knew how important my sketchbooks were to me. They were an extension of my soul. I took better care of them than I did nearly every possession I had. Pulling him to me, I decided not to use words, and instead, thanked him through my kisses, which he understood better than any words.

My desk was two short steps from the bed, and I quickly stood up to retrieve my favorite pencil so I could draw in my new book. I knew exactly what it was I wanted to draw, and the studio was the perfect place.

"Edward. Can I draw you?" He nodded and asked where I wanted him. "I want you to stand next to your desk, and I want you nude." Within moments, his clothes were laying on the foot of the daybed, and he was looking at me for further instructions. Grabbing his shoulders, I directed him where I wanted his body to be and helped position his head and limbs before I sat back down on the bed to open the crisp, new pages of my sketchbook.

There was only one thing that should be on this first page, and it was the most beautiful site I could think of, Edward's backside. I had him resting his hands against his desk, back arching a bit and looking over toward the right. The darkness of the night coming in through the windows was a perfect backdrop for his pale, smooth skin, and the desk, covered with art tools, seemed to say so much about Edward's passion. The arch in his back accentuated the fullness of his curves and angles, and while I longed to reach out and run my fingers along the turns his body made, I resisted and began to draw.

As I roughed out the lines of his form, I saw how the light played off the reddish color of his hair and knew I'd never be able to replicate that in a simple pencil sketch. "I'll be right back," I said over my shoulder as I walked out of the studio and into the house to fetch my camera. I was gone only a few moments, and when I returned, Edward hadn't moved, but looked even more beautiful as I entered the room, so much so, I had to trail my fingers down his back and over the rise and fall of his ass, causing him to arch further into me.

Before I got carried away, I drew my camera up to my eye and started to take photos of him from various angles, but ended up loving the angle I'd initially started to draw from the daybed. Our reflections could be seen in the windows, and his eyes locked on my image. He watched as I set the camera down and started to sketch again. I'm not sure how long I drew, but eventually I saw Edward's eyes shut and knew I had to get him to bed, so I reluctantly closed the sketchbook and helped my sleepy love get dressed.

In our bed, Edward fell asleep quickly, but it took time for sleep to take me, my mind going over all the ways Edward had shown me how much he loved me that day, from the fleeting touches to standing in front of my father's fist. My fingers ran across his stomach, slowly lowering until they started to absently run through the curls above the base of his penis, and I quickly lulled myself to sleep as I focused on the coarse hair trailing along my skin.

#

When I woke in the morning, Edward was already up and working in the kitchen, and from the smell coming into the bedroom, he was making his mouth-watering waffles for my mom. I slipped on only a pair of sleep pants and brushed my teeth before I walked out and greeted my mother with a nod. She was dressed and sipping coffee while reading the newspaper at the dining room table. Edward entered the dining room with a hot plate full of steaming waffles and warm maple syrup that he set down on the smooth wooden table, before I drew him in close and kissed him. He held me for a moment before he excused himself to bring me a cup of coffee, just how I liked it with a splash of cream, and after a few sips, the hot liquid finally made my voice work, so I was able to say good morning to both my mom and Edward.

We all sat down, and quickly started to devour Edward's wonderful breakfast that also consisted of thick cut bacon, fresh fruit, and cranberry juice. As we sipped our coffees, my mother told us she had spoken to my father earlier in the morning and that he wanted to go back to Forks early, feeling bad about what had transpired the day before but not really having the tools to know how to handle it. They were going to spend the entire weekend with us, but now my dad felt he needed to go home to regroup, and since my mom didn't drive in Seattle, she had to go home with him.

While I wasn't looking forward to her going home so soon, I understood her fear of driving in the city, so I was going to make the most of the few hours I had left with her before my father came to pick her up. We walked around the block, something that during my healing process had been daunting, but now I cherished as a daily ritual that brought me some peace as I communed with nature. Out in the studio I showed her some of the art pieces I'd been working on in the last few months, and we talked about the future. I even let her see some of the sketches I drew while working through the realization I was gay. She didn't say much while she scanned my sketchbook filled with Edward's visage, but her expressions showed me she could not only see the struggle I went through in the beginning, but also how at peace I was by the time I had talked to Edward.

Edward left us alone for the rest of the morning giving us the time we needed to reconnect but then surprised us by treating us to lunch, which I was thankful for. I felt it was important for her to see us as we were in our day-to-day lives, and when we went to one of our favorite restaurants, we didn't really restrain ourselves, holding hands and reaching for each other as we would've if she were Esme or Carlisle. By the time we got back to the house, my mom had seen us kiss several times and didn't seem to be affected by it at all anymore. When my father arrived, he remained outside, and we helped my mom load her luggage in the car with only a few words exchanged before waving them down the street. My father was civil, but that was about it. I was now officially the black sheep in the family, or more appropriately, the pink sheep. So be it. I'd gladly take that on.

I didn't need him. I told them about my life, giving him an opportunity to know my truth, and although my mom accepted it, my dad didn't, but his approval wasn't important any more. Not like it used to be. Standing in place for months, worrying about his reaction had done nothing positive for me. All it did was put tension on my relationship with Edward and cause me undue stress. I had Edward, I had myself, I was comfortable in my own skin, and now I needed to move on. I needed to say good-bye to the old Jasper and let go of my past. Waving at their car as they drove away, I didn't feel sad or disappointed, or even worried.

I simply felt free.

Friday night I continued to work on the sketch of Edward I started the night before. There was something about the pose I'd placed him in that not only got me horny, but made him look so vulnerable and intimate, like he was sharing information about his art only he knew as his body rested in that position. While the yard was surrounded with a fairly high hedge, I was sure some of our neighbors could see into the studio and watch us work. I would occasionally see the lights in a few kitchen windows and faces pressed against glass as those lights shut off, positive curious eyes watched as I sketched Edward's perfect curves. I worked on my drawing every night that weekend, loving the sight before me, and finally taking matters into my own hands on Sunday night.

He was irresistible, and I was amazed I'd held off as long as I had. Sure, I had him in our bed when we went into the house every night, but this was different. I couldn't wait to get to the soft comforter and the silky sheets. I needed him on the pliable leather.

Hell, I needed him on the hard desk. Fuck anything soft!

So, I set my sketchbook down on the black leather and started to walk behind him, appreciating the sight before me, which I know he saw in the reflection, because one corner of his mouth lifted as I neared his body and wrapped my long fingers around his growing length. There was little, besides him, I was thinking about as I rested my chest against his back, and easily fell into a rhythm that effortlessly elicited moans from Edward that vibrated against my chest and forced his head back to rest on my shoulder. I saw lights in a nearby house turn off and decided to dim ours, leaving one small candle burning and allowing the stars to illuminate our way around the room. I didn't need much light, my hands and mouth knew my way around Edward's body just as well as my eyes, if not better.

I stroked and celebrated his beautiful cock as I watched my hand glide over it in the window, my wrist twisting at the top to trail over the tip and touching the sensitive flesh with my trailing fingers before I reached the base and started again. Looking at his face, I could see exactly what he liked at the moment it happened and the window in front of me became my mirror into Edward's pleasure, telling me exactly what I should repeat and how often. His eyes were hooded, jaw open as his breathing increased and he allowed himself to let go and pull his arms up, fingers grabbing fists of my hair.

When he turned his head toward me, my tongue reached out for him and traced the fullness of his lips before fully allowing him to kiss me. I would pause every few moments to watch what we did in the reflection and met Edward's eyes there as well. There was something about watching each other that made the experience all the more exciting, and our eyes focused on each other in the window, causing us to get more aroused.

I pressed my hips into his rounded backside that I'd gotten even more familiar with as I drew it over the last few days, if that was possible, considering I'd explored every inch up close and personal. The friction I felt as his cheeks hugged my hard cock forced a growl out that was buried deep in my chest, and I pressed into him even further, turning his face back to me so I could kiss him deeply.

It wasn't long before Edward was pulling his lips from mine, unable to get enough oxygen as his breathing became shallower and started to hitch. His hips were thrusting into my hand in a perfect counter rhythm that helped him control the intensity, and his hands laced behind my head, pulling my chin to his shoulder so my breath washed across his neck. My lips and teeth started to trail along his neck and shoulder, giving him an extra sensation to feel and when I bit down hard, his laced fingers fell apart, causing his arms to drop loosely to his side before his hands found my hips.

All of my focus went to the image of us in the window, and I was granted the gift of watching as streams of hot come ribboned out of his perfect cock. With each stroke down, another round of the white perfection was drawn from him and landed on the wooden surface in front of him, leaving a pattern and design only a lover could appreciate. His face was enticing and blazing while he shuddered before me, toiling to expend every last drop his body had to offer. That was the face I wanted to sketch next and realized I was remiss when I left my camera in the house.

Edward's arms fell to the desk as his body slouched with exhaustion from his orgasm. I ran my hands up and down his back, and around the curves of his ass, trying to help him calm his body further while my lips placed kisses in seemingly random places.

"It's … just so perfect," he panted struggling to find words. "Now get the fuck over here," he said as he made quick work of dropping all my clothes to the ground, and he pushed me onto the desk so I was sitting next to his spunk.

The funniest sight I'd ever seen played out before me as Edward pulled his desk chair up to the desk, adjusting the height to perfection so he could wrap his pretty lips around my dick and sit in the chair. Of course, he'd been standing for night after night with his back arched and ass pushed out for me to draw, so he was achy and fatigued, but the spectacle in front of me made me release a hearty laugh until his hot, wet mouth made contact with me.

I was silenced.

He smirked around me, and looked up as his tongue did magical things to the head and shaft of my penis. He could really teach a class.

It wasn't long before I was starting to lose all composure, allowing wanton noises to escape my mouth. Edward stood up abruptly, and kicked his chair across the room before he swept his arm across the left side of his desk, forcing all of his art supplies to tumble to the ground. I moved to get off the table and start picking them up when Edward turned and pushed me down sideways, forcing me to lay across his desk, my feet extending to my side of the long desk. He reached into a drawer and immediately ripped open the foil packet to roll a condom down my rigid length and climbed to straddle me as he flipped open a small bottle of lube and drizzled it over me.

Except for a small candle over near the sink that burned dimly in the utilitarian space, inky blackness surrounded us. Edward's hair seemed to light up from the flame—red and gold and bronze—and I reached up to touch the glittering hair, pulling it as he sank down on my rigid pole, forcing my head to be thrown back hitting it on the hard wooden surface. I didn't fucking care. His smooth heat surrounding me, and the silky hair between my fingers was all I was focused on.

As soon as he was completely impaled on me, he started to move up and down, his thighs working and straining under my hands as I dropped them from his hair and slid them to feel the movement of muscle under skin. I loved the feel of the exertion he put into making love to me. It made me realize that as good as things were between us, it took a great deal of work and effort. I needed this physical reminder.

He leaned down to kiss me, capturing my lips in his and tasting my mouth, full of anticipation and longing to show him how much I loved him and never wanting to let him go. When he leaned over my body, his hips lifted, so I raised mine to meet him and buried my cock deep into his body, sliding down the desk with my increased movement, feeling Edward's come beneath my ass. Even though it was cold now, knowing it was his made me slide down further, rubbing my body in what remained of his magnificent release, using it to spur my thrusts as I circled my hips to bring him satisfaction, once again.

It didn't take much, my pressing into his body along with the thoughts in my head had me crying out his name, and telling him I loved him. Above me in the dark sky, I saw a ray of light shoot across the sky, matching my body's contraction. I continued to push into him as my cock flexed and shot my come in waves of ecstasy, and just as I was riding out the last moments of my release, I saw Edward getting close. Pushing him off of me, I laid him backward across my desk, supplies crashing to the ground without a second thought, and I knelt between his legs, using my mouth to coax and draw the second orgasm his body allowed him to have, tasting his salty and bitter delight. Digging my fingers into his supple ass as he shot down my throat, I swallowed around him. I watched his face as he came, trying to memorize every line and shape of his eyes and mouth.

I needed to remember.

#

With only a few weeks left before the end of the quarter, Edward and I had a lot of work to do to prepare for finals. They mainly consisted of large projects with a test or two between us, so the school studio became a second home again. I was glad there was a cafe on site, because once I got focused on my work, it wasn't something I wanted to leave, and Edward was much the same.

On a Thursday night, I was standing in the dark room developing the film I'd taken of Edward over Thanksgiving weekend. In the pitch-black room, I was unrolling the film and blindly threading it on the spool so I could load it in the film tank and put it in the _soup_. I had my chemicals and thermometer laid out and ready and easily fell into the rhythm of developing the film. While the film dried, I worked in the studio on another project, and then returned to the dark room to make a few quick prints of the film I'd just developed. By the time I got home with those prints in hand, Edward was fast asleep, making small sounds as he breathed, and when I slid my naked body next to his, his legs found mine and immediately tangled around me. My hand trailed over his chest, and he moaned when I instinctually traced his nipples. Not wanting to wake him up, I slipped my hand down his torso and ran my fingers through the hair below his navel, again ending up in the coarse curls that had lulled me to sleep a few nights prior.

It worked again.

#

"So anyway, we'd like both of you to come in and sit for about three hours in the evenings during that week. Does that work?" I looked over at Edward who'd pulled his cell phone out and opened his calendar before he nodded. I turned off the speaker and placed the phone back to my ear while Edward typed away.

"Yep. It sounds like it will. We look forward to working with your studio. We'll see you then. Bye."

Dr. Banner had talked to a local studio that taught a class over the winter break, and they were looking for two male models who'd be willing to work nude together. He thought of us since we'd both modeled nude separately before, and since we were together, he didn't think we'd have an issue with it, which we didn't. The bonus was that it was with a fairly posh studio, and they would be paying us fairly well, which was nice right before Christmas. The money I'd make would allow me to get Edward what I'd been hoping to get him for months.

"Well, I guess we're sticking around here for Christmas, huh?" Edward asked as he continued to scroll through his calendar.

"Actually, I talked to my mom this morning. My dad is having a hard time. Surprise. But she really thinks he's about to make some sort of a break through and doesn't want to jinx it. I guess she has him going to PFLAG meetings, and he's even seeing a counselor once a week. The counselor thought it would be good for me if I didn't see him quite yet, so Mom and Dad have decided to do Christmas alone this year. Honestly, I'm relieved because I don't want to see him. You're my family. I was really hoping we could start our own tradition, maybe on Christmas Eve, what do you think?"

Edward's eyes lit up at my suggestion and he said, "I think that would be great. I'm not sure we'll be able to do it every year, but I really want something for us and us alone."

We were in our last week of school, and our finals schedule made our week fairly open. The week prior, we finished most of our final projects, wanting the extra time to study for our finals. Edward was done Tuesday morning, and by Tuesday afternoon, I was. When I arrived home and made my way out to the studio, I heard crashing and banging as I turned the doorknob. When I rounded the corner, Edward slammed a metal closed and quickly locked it, stashing the key deep in the front pocket of his dark blue jeans. The look on his face screamed, "I've been caught."

"What sort of trouble are you up to?" I teased as I sat down at my desk and fingered a pencil. "Have you been a bad boy while I was off proving all of my knowledge?"

"No. I've been a very good boy. I've just been doing something I don't want you to know about, that's all," he said in a clipped tone, a smirk spreading across his face as his serious facade broke.

"Ah. Are you keeping secrets from me? Well, I have a few secrets I've been keeping from you too. Of course, with Christmas only a few days away, I guess we can keep secrets, huh? But you make me very curious. What are you working on that'll fit in such a small box?"

"I'm not tellin'. Stop trying to guess. You won't be happy if you ruin the surprise, and I'll be far from happy! Now get back in the house. Go," he said pointing to the door before I took only one step back. "Okay, I'll come with you. I can always come out here and work later." He stood and smiled at me as he walked toward me and grabbed my hand, leading me outside and back into the house.

Once we were in the house, Edward walked over to the table by the front door and reached for the mail I'd dropped there when I walked in earlier. He sorted through the magazines, bills, and junk mail, finally allowing his fingers to trail along a large ivory envelope with beautiful hand written script on the front. As he turned it over, a small intake of breath made me take several steps toward him and reach for the crisp paper. It was addressed to both of us, but I didn't recognize the return address at all, so I handed it back to him.

Edward slid his long finger under the flap, and expertly opened the thick paper before he pulled out what looked like a wedding invitation. "What is it?" I asked, more curious as he continued to read and remain silent.

"It's a commitment ceremony invitation. It's from my ex, Riley … and Paul?" His voice rose to a question as he read the invitation closer. "Wow. I knew they were close, but I had no idea they'd be ready to settle down. Want to go to a commitment ceremony?"

"Maybe," I said, not entirely sure.

And that was what got Edward and I talking about commitment and marriage and children.

"Have you given much thought to marriage, Edward? How do you feel about it?" I asked, wondering why we hadn't had this conversation in all the years we were friends.

"Well, I always thought I'd marry someone. I'd rather be in a committed relationship than anything else, and what I have with you is something I want to last forever. Being able to make it legal and share it with our family and friends would be amazing," he said as he reached for my hand. The bed dipped as I sat down next to Edward and lay down next to his relaxed body. "How 'bout you?"

"I'd love to marry you too, but it's not even legal in Washington yet. We could be domestic partners, but we've only been together for four months. I mean, are we ready for that? It seems kind of fast, and it's a huge step." Edward nodded in agreement as he traced the back of his fingers down the side of my face and my neck. "But I guess my biggest fear is that we'd get married or even become domestic partners, and then the law would change. It happened in California. I want our commitment to each other to be legal and binding in every way and not something that's fleeting, based on what political party is in power. I want it to be forever."

"We don't need legal papers to commit to each other, Jasper."

"I know, but there's something about having that paper that fixes so many legal loopholes," I admitted, not proud that legalities mattered so much to me. "Maybe it's because I thought I would marry a woman and have never had to think of this stuff. I just took it for granted. I'm not really sure, but if you hadn't been allowed to see me when I was in the hospital— That scenario scares the shit out of me. I know we fixed it, but still! That's not anything I even considered before."

"What about kids? Do you want them?" Edward asked, giving nothing away with his tone.

"I've always wanted kids, but the more I think about it, the less I want them. What I really wonder is if I wanted kids because that was what was expected of me. That's what I was supposed to do, get married and have kids. Now that that expectation has been taken off the table, I don't feel the need to have children. What about you?"

Edward ran his fingers through my hair and played with a curl behind my ear before speaking. "I haven't really thought about it at all, because I never imagined it would be a real possibility. It's complicated."

"Well, we haven't even had a commitment ceremony, let alone done anything to make us legally partners, so I guess it's a bit premature to talk about having kids. Not to mention, we're only twenty-two," I smirked.

"You know, before we do any of that, maybe we should get a bank account together," Edward joked. "We've lived together for years. We know we get along really well, so that isn't really an issue. But there's very little we have together besides our bedroom, closet, and bathroom."

"Well," I got serious as I climbed off our bed and walked to our dresser to retrieve the blue and green jars filled with coins that sat on top, "we can start with this." I lifted the jars, and Edward smiled. "Seriously!"

He reached for my hand and pulled me back to the bed. "I think that's a great idea, but what will we use the money for?"

"I don't know, things we want to buy for us. Trips. Furniture. Things we'll both use," I said, confident this was a good way to marry our lives a little more.

Later that afternoon, we walked into a credit union with our jars in hand to open a savings account in both of our names. When we both dumped our money into the coin counter, not caring how much we each put in initially, we were surprised to find we had over five hundred dollars that had been sitting in our bedroom for months. With the simple act of opening a bank account together, I felt that new beginning, the rebirth that Edward talked to me about was actually happening, this time with our commitment to each other.

* * *

**Edit: 2/6/2012**


	19. Scars

**Scars**

I'd been sitting at my desk in the studio for the last several hours working on Jasper's gift, listening to music, and staring at the raindrops sliding slowly down the window. The sound of the rain hitting the roof of the studio was soothing, relaxing me to the point where I felt drowsy. While the coffee in my cup had gone cold long ago, I kept sipping at it, tasting the bitter flavor and the smooth feel of it in my mouth.

Exhausted after a night of fitful sleep, Jasper was in the house resting. Waking up before the sun rose, I decided to get up so he could sprawl out, hopefully making up for the sleep he had missed. For several nights in a row, Jasper's sleep had seemed out of sorts. Perhaps he was worried about something or it could have been a simple case of insomnia, but when I woke up to him snoring next to me, I watched as his bare chest rose and fell with each deep breath. His face was placid, undisturbed by dreams, and I realized he was finally getting some much needed rest, so I left him alone to sleep.

The rhythmic drumming on the studio roof and skylights finally forced me over to the daybed where I lay down and watched the thick, ropey drips fall off the metal edging. A stiff breeze blew the rain in sheets at an angle, drops pelting the windows with a splattering sound.

As my eyes followed new lines of water cascading down the window, my mind drifted back to the last few weeks. Jasper had made some amazing changes, and in many ways, he seemed like a new man, confident and secure. I'd noticed these characteristics slowly growing in him since September, but once he stood up to his father, his assurance swelled, and he was finally comfortable in his own skin. It was evident to our friends and family that he'd walked away from Thanksgiving unscathed, not a mark on him, more bold than he'd ever been.

When Jasper's father nearly hit him with the fireplace poker, I couldn't see him hurt again. After seeing him pierced by Jessica's ignorance, there was no way in hell I would ever allow his own father, the man he only wanted acceptance from, to lay a hand on him.

I had stepped forward when I saw his father move to hit him and was relieved when I felt Jack's fist meet my face, relishing in the sweet pain as my head was thrown violently back. The sting on my face meant I spared Jasper that ache, and I absorbed it with gratitude as I slid down Jasper's chest, drifting in and out of consciousness.

Over the next few weeks, I carried that bruise around with pride. Every second glance, stare, and question I got was worth it. I had accomplished my mission and protected Jasper. He tried to apologize, but I wouldn't let him, and while he initially treated the wound with fear and trepidation, he eventually thought it was sexy, even teasing me about how once the bruise was gone, he was going to leave me for a cage fighter.

When Jasper walked into the studio with a fresh cup of coffee, I was startled out of my dreamy memories. "Hey sleepyhead," he said, handing me a light blue mug as he sat next to me on the edge of the daybed while I rested against the wall behind me. His fingers combed the mess of hair off my forehead as he leaned in to kiss me. I took a careful sip of the piping hot coffee before setting it on the table to cool a bit.

"Did you finally get some sleep?" I asked.

"I think so. I feel rested. Why do you ask?"

"Well, you've been tossing and turning for nights, and last night was probably the worst since you came home from the hospital. I thought it might just be insomnia, but is anything bothering you?"

Looking away from me, he scanned the desk before returning to my eyes. "I'm just worried about school. It's nothing really. We have a lot of stuff coming up, and I feel like things are changing. I'm not sure how I'll be able to manage all of it."

I scooted down the daybed and sat behind Jasper, a leg on each side of him, my arms wrapped around his waist as he rested his hands on top of mine and leaned back into me. I placed a kiss between his shoulder blades. "Things are gonna change," I conceded, "but I think it's gonna be good for us. I'm tired of college, to be honest. I'm ready to start living life and move on. We don't have many classes left, and I'm really ready to focus on our show. So you aren't worried about anything else, are you?"

"Nope," he quickly answered. "Just all the changes. I'm going to be putting about twenty hours a week in at Masen Design. I have two classes, our show, and then I have to somehow manage to get to modeling gigs, although it's been awhile since I've had a job."

"We have one tonight," I reminded him. "I can't believe Banner got us this job. It's good money too. The people taking the class must have some deep pockets if they're willing to pay us five thousand dollars to sit for them."

Jasper turned to look at me, his eyes lighting up, his face giving away his excitement over the amount of money about to be placed in his hands. "It's pretty amazing, isn't it? All for sitting for a few hours. Wouldn't it be fucking amazing if we could keep doing work for them? Can you imagine five thousand dollars a month, or even every few months? I could pay off your dad's loan, and then get my student loans out of the way in a year or two. To not have those hanging over my head would be great!"

"It really would, wouldn't it? I know having those paid off would relieve a lot of your financial burden, and you'd be able to start off your career with a clean slate and use your salary for other things you want or need." Pulling him toward me, I gently brushed my lips against the delicate skin of his mouth, savoring the hope he felt and seeing it in his eyes as I retreated, pushing a golden wave off his forehead. "But money isn't everything."

"Spoken by the man who has more money than he knows what to do with," he joked.

Effectively dodging the direction the conversation could have gone, I asked, "What do you want to do the rest of the day? We don't have to be there until 6:45 tonight, so we have the whole day. We have nearly three weeks off, and with as much as we'll have to do in January, why don't we just enjoy our time off and relax. Do you have anything to do?" I asked, knowing I needed to spend some more time working on Jasper's gift in the next week.

"I do have to buy some gifts, and I'd really like to get a tree up this year. Every year we skip it because we're going to spend Christmas away from our house, but this year I want to get one. How about we go out and chop one down? Have you ever done that before?" he asked as his face lit up like a little boy. I had no problem imagining him as an excited six year old running to the Christmas tree at the crack of dawn, anxiously waiting for Rosalie to join him. Laughing at the image, Jasper hit me, thinking I was laughing at him.

"Hey, I'd love to do that. I'd love to do anything that got you this excited, in fact. Let me call my dad, because he knows a guy who'll let you go out on his land and cut down a tree. One thing we should do is decide where we want it first, and see how high our ceiling is there. I remember one year my dad's eyes were bigger than our house."

The rest of the morning was spent rearranging our living room to accommodate our future tree, and when we had things ready to go, we headed out of Seattle in Jasper's truck to find the property of my dad's friend. When we arrived, we got a little lesson on how to cut down a tree before Jasper found the perfect evergreen. After cutting it down and tying it to the truck, we made our journey back to our house in the heart of the city.

Just as we hit the Interstate, I saw our underwear ad on a huge billboard. You could definitely tell who Jasper was. I could tell it was me too, but since my face was turned into his neck, hidden in the shadows, my identity wasn't as obvious.

"Holy shit!" Jasper yelled, making me jump. "That thing is gigantic! I've seen myself in print before but never like that." He slowed the pick-up down a bit, forcing a few cars to go around us while he looked up at our image, and tried to take it in. It was really impressive, and he looked beautiful, his perfectly rippled abs drawing my eye right down to the sexy V of his hips to the underwear that hung so low I was surprised they kept him contained.

Fuck he was sexy.

He started to laugh, a big, hearty laugh, and tears fell down the corner of his eye. "My God! No wonder my father had such a shit fit. It looks like we just got done fucking," he continued to laugh, having trouble breathing, and I reached for the steering wheel, fearful he'd drive off the road. "I'm glad he saw that, Edward. That was good for him to see." I joined in on the laughter, appreciating the irony of the situation. While my parents would find that shot beautiful, stylized, and intimate, Jasper's father, in particular, would probably categorize it as porn.

When we got home, we hauled the pine tree into the house, set it in the tree stand, and stood back, trying to decide what side we wanted to be the front. Jasper then surprised me with several boxes full of ornaments our mothers' had sent at his request so we could each have a touch of our childhood memories on our tree. Just when I thought it couldn't get better, he pulled out a box of six ornaments he'd made himself using designs from our sketchbooks.

It didn't take us long before we had the house sparkling in a holiday glow, the tree strung with small white lights, twinkling in the branches and reflecting off the metallic ornaments. Soft, hand-sewn snowflakes were scattered around the tree, enhancing the warm tones of the carved wooden designs Jasper had made by hand in his free moments. Garlands softened the harsh lines of the Craftsman style trim and ultra modern stonework, marrying the two eclectic styles even better, warming the space and making it look festive enough to be on the front of a Christmas card.

We still had a few hours before we had to leave for the modeling gig, so we got to work hanging lights on the front of our house. When Jasper flipped the switch, I took in a breath, surprised to see how beautiful the house looked lit up in the darkening evening, the round clear lights outlining our house. He joined me in a minute, face beaming again, as he took up his place behind me and wrapped me in his arms.

"It's perfect," I said after allowing a moment of silent appreciation to pass. "I don't think I've ever seen our house look so good. Thank you for making this ours."

"This is going to be a great Christmas, Edward. I can't wait to spend it with you and to start our own traditions." He skimmed his nose along the shell of my ear and his breath washed over me, sending tingles running down my torso before his lips pressed behind my ear, placing wet, tender kisses down the column of my neck.

I loved being enveloped in his arms, feeling his strength surround me, and anticipating what he would do next. When he pulled away and carried the ladder into the garage, I was disappointed, hoping he would hold me longer, enjoying the sight of our house all festooned for Christmas for a few more moments.

"Come on, babe. We need to get going, or we're going to be late." I forced my feet to move toward his voice, not really wanting the moment to end, but knowing it already had.

Driving to the art gallery, I started to feel a little anxious. It had been awhile since I modeled nude before students, and I'd never done it with another man, only solo or with a woman. The debacle that was the underwear photo shoot showed me what could happen when I was seated so closely to Jasper, and I really didn't want a repeat performance of Little Eddie wanting to come out to play, especially when he was already … out. Hopefully, with our relationship not being so new anymore, I wouldn't get hard just from his skin touching mine. Although, Jasper might have that problem this time around considering how his body had been reacting to mine for the last few months. I just hoped we wouldn't embarrass ourselves.

When we arrived at the gallery, we were surprised at how large the class was. There must have been thirty students and easels forming a circle around a large round rug with several pillows scattered on it which was obviously our spot. The teacher approached us and asked in his heavy French accent if we were the models, saying we fit Dr. Banner's description to a tee. He led us to a small room off of the studio where we could change for the class.

"I'm a bit nervous," I admitted while we started to get undressed. "Are you?"

"No. I do this all the time though. It's almost second nature to me now. I'll be there right next to you, and we can probably even talk most of the time, especially tonight while they're just roughing things in."

There was a small knock on the door and we quickly left the room to enter the studio. The teacher's back was to us as we made our way to the rug and started to find a comfortable position we felt we could hold for three hours. When the teacher turned to give us more direction he walked toward me and asked if I could recline on an elbow with a knee raised. Jasper was facing me, my knee in front of his torso, and when the teacher walked around to his back, he let out a gasp, and then a small shriek.

Jasper jumped at the loud noise behind him, and I scowled as I saw where the man was looking and what he'd reacted to.

"Your body is … scarred!" he said in a scandalous, pretentious voice, accusation dripping from his tone.

Jasper turned to face him and told him with no shame, "Yes. I was assaulted nearly two months ago." As his body was turned, the man scanned the scar on Jasper's side where his spleen had been removed, and a look of disgust twisted on his face.

"This will not do. I am paying you very good money to sit for these fine artists. I need models who have bodies that are perfect. You will have to go," he said with condescension to Jasper, and then looked to me. "You can stay."

"No sir, I'm sorry. If Jasper goes, then I go too." I held my anger back, biting my bottom lip until it hurt. "Now if you'll excuse us, I believe you have a class to teach and new models to find." Standing quickly, I held my hand out to Jasper and pulled him to his feet, seeing unshed tears swimming in his eyes. I held his hand as we hastily moved toward the dressing room, seeing many eyes follow us that were filled with embarrassment, shame, and anger, but it was all directed at their teacher, not us.

We dressed in silence, making quick work of our clothes and shoes before leaving the room. As we walked toward the front of the gallery, I noticed several people had packed up their art supplies and were leaving the class, even though one of the students had stepped in and was already lying down on the rug serving as the model. I unlocked the car and started to open the door, overhearing several of the students complaining about the teacher, talking about how bad they felt for Jasper and how unnecessary firing him was before I took us away from that place as fast as I could.

I didn't know what to say, but I felt I should say something to him. His eyes were glassy as he stared out the passenger window and ran the fingers of his right hand over the back of his left. It was obvious this hurt him, and when I took a breath to say something, he turned to me and looked me straight in the eye.

"Don't say anything, Edward. I knew this was going to eventually happen. I never thought it would happen at an art class. I always thought it would be with a modeling job." His eyes looked resigned and sad, and all I wanted to do was go back there and punch that fucker in the face. I must have been clenching my teeth, because Jasper reached over and started to gently massage my jaw with his thumb as he smiled at me. "Let's just go home, babe. Now we have five nights to ourselves. We can do whatever we'd like. How about a movie?" he asked, the smile finally reaching his eyes.

"But the money Jasper. That would have helped you so much." He looked back toward the side window, and I saw him nod his head out of the corner of my eye. We both remained silent the rest of the drive home, but I reached for his hand and held it between us, our arms resting on the console.

When we walked in the front door, Jasper hung up his coat, took off his shoes, and started turning on Christmas lights all over the house, including the outdoor lights. His silence was scaring me, but I let him be, knowing he wasn't ready to talk quite yet. I was used to this routine because this was how things were handled in the past. If something bothered Jasper, he was quiet while he thought about it and tried to work it out. Eventually, he would come to me. I knew how to play this role as his friend, but I wasn't sure I could do this as easily as his lover. I would do my best to give him space.

I walked to our room and quickly got dressed into a pair of red flannel pajama pants. In the kitchen, I popped some popcorn and opened a couple of bottles of beer before heading into the living room to find a movie I thought Jasper might enjoy. When he joined me a few minutes later wearing a pair of navy flannel pants, I was already settled into the corner of the couch, sitting cross-legged, resting the bowl of popcorn between my legs. Jasper sat in the middle of the couch, stretching out his long legs and resting his bare feet on the coffee table. He still hadn't spoken except for saying "thank you" when I handed him a beer, and I wasn't about to push it, so I started the movie.

As soon as the popcorn bowl was emptied and set on the coffee table, Jasper lay his head in my lap, as if he had been waiting for his spot to open up. Without thought, I wove my fingers through this hair, fingering the wheaten curls and playing with the soft locks at the back of his neck. It didn't take long for him to fall fast asleep, so I turned off the DVD player and television, sitting there and watching the peace finally wash over his face, erasing the subtle lines of worry only I could distinguish.

I wasn't sure what Jasper was most upset about. Was it the loss of the money, or the fact that he had been turned down for a job because of the scarring Jessica caused? The longer I thought about it, the angrier I became. Not only had she nearly killed him, but now she was still affecting his life and, most importantly, his fucking livelihood. It wouldn't always be that way, but now, while he tried to pay for school, he was using his body to make money.

There was only one thing I could think of to help him … somehow give him money. If he stopped paying me his rent, which I really saw as part of the mortgage, that would free up a lot of cash each month, but I knew he would never agree to that, knowing I had to make our house payment.

I had been considering closing out one of my investment accounts and if I did, I'd have enough money to pay off our house. The money wasn't earning nearly as much interest as I was paying on my loan, and the money would be better served paying for real estate we planned on living in for many years to come.

This was _our_ house.

Jasper and I didn't feel the need to move. We loved it here and the neighborhood was a place where we wanted to stay.

That's what I would do, and I decided I needed to call my broker to get the funds transferred and get this out of the way as quickly as possible.

Jasper stirred on my lap and mumbled something I couldn't understand, even after mulling the sounds over in my mind several times and trying them out in my mouth to see if I could make sense of them. Before allowing him to get into too deep a sleep, I decided to wake him up and get him to bed.

"Hey love. Wake up. Let's go to bed." He barely opened his eyes before scrubbing his hand over his face and sitting up.

"I guess I fell asleep," he stated the obvious, and I smiled.

Standing up, I reached for him and pulled him to his feet, then led him to our bed. We both dropped our pajama pants and underwear before sliding between the cool, silky sheets. Jasper rolled on his stomach and I straddled him, wanting more than anything to erase the night's memories. My lips and tongue trailed over each and every scar on his back, caressing the delicate pink skin that continued to heal. I loved every mark on his body, each one representing a moment he stood up for himself and no longer allowed others' closed minded beliefs to hold control over him. Jasper seemed to enjoy it, even rolling onto his stomach most nights to invite me to start my ritual. I had been doing this for weeks and now had a pattern down.

Starting at his left shoulder blade, I placed a soft, wet kiss there before I trailed my tongue across his back to the other shoulder blade where I licked the long scar there. Moving down his back, I captured three more scars in my lips before I zig zagged from the middle of his back to his left side, tasting his salty skin and relishing in the smell of his slightly sweaty body. His musk called to me, and when he rolled onto his back, I continued to kiss along his surgical scar, looking up and seeing his eyes on me. They were sad and worried. Kissing my way up his chest, lingering for a moment at a nipple, I trailed my nose up his neck and pulled the tender flesh of his ear lobe into my mouth and bit down lightly before releasing it.

"Every inch of your body is beautiful, Jasper," I whispered in a low, husky voice. "You are perfection to me." I kissed along his jaw line and chin, finally kissing his anxious, parted lips. "I love every scar. They're part of you now, and they tell your story. They tell our story."

Moaning into his mouth when he roughly grabbed my hair, he crashed his lips to mine. His fingers desperately tangled in my hair as he poured his fears and trepidation into my lips and tongue, allowing a single tear to fall. Holding his body tightly to me, I let him release everything he wanted into me. He crushed my chest to his, and even though I felt short of breath, I remained silent until he was ready to let me go. When he did, he rolled me off of him and backed into my chest, reversing our usual position. Holding him close, I breathed softly across the back of his neck until I felt him settle and fall asleep in my arms. Once I knew he was sleeping soundly, I was able to relax and drift off.

* * *

**Edit: 2/8/2012**


	20. Symbols

**Symbols**

When Christmas Eve dawned, I stretched my limbs and rolled over to find Jasper's side of the bed empty and cold. Not hearing him in the shower I started to think about what our day would entail: baking cookies, grazing on food most of the evening, opening presents, and if I had my way, making love with Jasper. He'd been secretive for days, not telling me what traditions he wanted to start, but I didn't have very long to wait when he walked into our bedroom and told me to get dressed and meet him in the studio.

Upon entering the studio, I was surprised to see a small table set up in the middle of the room, complete with a bouquet of cream and red tulips and a full breakfast of my favorites.

Sitting down, I could hardly wait to start eating, but Jasper took my hand in his as he sat, taking a few moments to scan the items scattered across our desks, biting the right side of his lip before taking a deep breath and turning to me. "You have made my life complete, Edward, and we don't need mistletoe, or toasts, or even presents to tell each other 'I love you.' We do that every day. What I want today to be about is us being comfortable being who we are … completely, entirely, and without an ounce of hesitation."

I nodded my head as he squeezed my hand and leaned across the table to place a tender kiss on my waiting lips. As soon as he was seated, he unfolded his napkin, laid it in his lap, and pulled out his Texan drawl to say, "Now, let's eat."

There was no hesitation from me as I devoured the bounty before me, washing it down with sips of my mimosa or hazelnut coffee. "You must have gotten up early to get this started," I said, placing a large forkful of egg in my mouth. "I didn't even hear you get up."

"No earlier than usual, you just happened to sleep in a little later. It's nearly ten," he said with a smirk as I whipped my head around to look at the clock behind me. "You needed the sleep if you didn't hear the alarm, so I let you rest. It's not a big deal, besides, I got some last minute wrapping done while you were sawing logs."

"Well, I'm glad I could accommodate you so nicely this morning. Do you have any intention of telling me your specific plans yet?" I asked, hoping that today he would finally tell me, but I was disappointed when he shook his head. I'd have to wait. "What's with the tulips?"

He shrugged. " I like 'em. I've always liked tulips. They're my favorite flower, partially because they only bloom for a few weeks. Something about such beauty coming from the ugliness of a bulb seems magical, not to mention red tulips represent perfect love. Cream tulips mean 'I love you forever.' When I found out my favorite flower stood for those two things, I knew I had to get these for today, our first Christmas together. I'm a sap, I know, but you're so good at these things. They come naturally to you, but I have to try a little bit harder." He shook his head, and looked down at his hands as if he were embarrassed.

"Hey, look at me," I requested. "I love the tulips, and I love that you wanted to share them with me. It really means a lot," I smiled as I reached across the table, and touched my thumb to his soft lips as he captured it in a full, pink embrace.

We finished eating and sipped coffee, talking about nothing as we watched the birds come to our feeders in the backyard. After my second cup of coffee was emptied, I cleared the dishes and returned them to the house.

When I entered the studio again, the table had been removed and he was nude, standing in the middle of the room holding a large piece of drawing paper and my box of charcoals, handing them to me as I neared.

"Where would you like me?" he asked, as if we did this everyday, and while as artists and models, we did do that on a fairly regular basis, it still surprised me. Scanning the room, I tried to decide how I wanted him to pose for me, the corners of my mouth turning into a smile as I chose his spot.

"It may not be the most creative, but I'd really like for you to be partially reclined on the daybed, like the Greek god you are." I couldn't help but smile as he walked to the bed and lay down in the exact pose I had in mind, one knee bent with an arm resting across it, while I sat sideways at my desk and started to sketch my Christmas Eve nude of Jasper.

I wanted this to be a stylized nude, with strong lines and subtle shading, so I allowed my eyes to travel along his body, searching out the forms and curves I most wanted to represent. More than anything, I knew I needed to capture the waves of his hair as they cascaded around his face and the lines of his long, lean legs.

As I drew, we talked about Riley and Paul's commitment ceremony, which Jasper wasn't thrilled about attending. Going to a celebration for my ex-boyfriend seemed to be the main issue, but our encounter with Paul at the bar hadn't been a pleasant one either.

Finishing up the last touches on my drawing, I sat back, signing and dating my piece in my usual manner. I seated myself on the daybed next to his hip and showed it to him, patiently waiting for his appraisal but allowing him time to absorb what was on the paper.

"I really like the bold stokes you used. You've always been able to convey so much in so few lines. It's what makes you such a great cartoonist. It really is beautiful. We need to make sure we get this framed soon and hung up."

Setting my piece aside, Jasper dressed while I slipped out of my clothes and waited for his direction. He wanted me in the same pose, so I got settled while he explained why.

"Matching sketches," he said in a light tone before he turned more serious. "I wanted this day to be about us and what we have together. Art was the very first thing we shared, even before we shared words. It's what brought us to each other, and it's one of those things that's kept our friendship going for all these years. It's been our constant. I wanted to draw you and would like to continue drawing you every Christmas Eve that we share together. Doing nudes just seemed fitting, considering everything that's been exposed and revealed in the last few months. Who knows what next year will bring? Woolen hats with ear flaps and corncob pipes?" He laughed at his own joke, and I couldn't resist joining in at the silly image that flitted through my head. "But seriously," his laughter stopped short, "can you imagine a book full of our sketches throughout the years?"

"For someone who claims to not be good at sentimentalities, you sure know how to create traditions that are sincere and full of meaning," I pointed out, gesturing toward his art paper and charcoals to get him started.

After several hours, Jasper grabbed a freshly sharpened charcoal pencil and moved his hand to the lower right hand corner of the page and with a flourish of his wrist, he signed and dated his rendering, signaling his completion. He followed the same pattern I did, sitting next to me to show me his drawing.

His was much more detailed, so detailed in fact, that you had to look twice to make sure it wasn't a black and white photograph. The focus was entirely on my body though, the rest of the room details simply sketched in and fading to nothingness the further from my reclined body they were. We made plans to frame the drawings and hang them in our house.

I got dressed and we returned to the house to bake the cookies we had promised to bring to my parents' house on Christmas day. The house was chilly when we entered, so Jasper started a fire while I pulled out all the ingredients and baking supplies we would need to make his favorite peanut butter cookie recipe I got from his mother.

We ended up eating about a quarter of the dough before the cookies were baked, but we didn't throw flour around or drizzle ingredients across warmed naked bodies, this time. While the radio played Christmas music, we spent the idle baking time singing and dancing across the kitchen floor, mixing beaters serving as microphones, and falling into fitful laughter as Jasper and I tried to harmonize. By the time the cookies were cooled and placed in a box ready to go, we were both hungry again.

"Happy hour?" Jasper asked, opening the fridge and pulling out five varieties of cheese, fresh salsa and guacamole made by our neighbor, hummus, and pickles. I pulled out several types of crackers, pita chips, rye crisps, and ciabatta bread. On a large platter, we started to load small piles of food so we could snack all night.

By the time we reached the living room with our simple supper, it was nearly eight and had been dark for several hours so Jasper lit the house up, not only turning on the holiday lights, but lighting candles throughout the room, giving it the soft ethereal glow that only seemed to be produced at Christmas. He left for a moment to retrieve his iPod, and when he docked it in the Bose speakers and hit play, I laughed at his choice of Christmas music, The Ray Conniff Singers; campy, funny, and most importantly, very singable.

"How did you know about this album?" I asked, nearly spilling my wine from my laughter before I set my glass on the coffee table and took a seat, cross-legged on the leather couch. Walking over to the couch, Jasper took a sip of his wine before sitting at the opposite end of the couch and stretching his legs across the cushions, allowing his bare feet to rest in my lap.

"I called your mom and asked what music you listened to as a kid around the holidays. I'm not really sure why, but I thought it would be fun to listen to some crazy ass music and she knew just the thing. When I first heard it, I wasn't sure I could listen to it, but then I fell in love. Your parents are crazy, you know?" I nodded, knowing full well the quirkiness he was referring to.

We sat relaxed in the living room with a crackling fire and listened to the festive music, relishing in the relaxing day we ended up having. Smiles and conversation came easily, as I massaged his feet and watched him ease back into the leather cushions, while he told me stories of his Christmases with Rosalie. When he talked, there was no sadness in his voice or his eyes, only the happy memories as we made memories of our own.

"Presents. When do you want to open them, now or later? " he wondered, as he pulled his feet back toward his body, kneeling on the cushion and leaning across the couch to kiss me.

"Now," I quickly replied, getting up and sitting on the ground in front of the tree, patting the spot next to me in hopes he would join me. Reaching for the small square box, covered in navy blue and silver paper, I handed it to Jasper. He pulled out a fairly large, flat box that was wrapped in red metallic paper and a big silver bow, before he reached deep beneath the tree and retrieved another square box, wrapped in matching paper.

"This is really a gift for both of us, believe me, so why don't you open this first," he said, rolling his eyes a bit as he spoke and chuckled.

I pulled the square box onto my lap and carefully loosened the tape on the edges of the paper, revealing a sturdy, brown box with a lid that I pulled off. Inside were three pair of square cut hipster underwear; all with different graphic novel art in green, orange, and blue. I held each pair up, looking at the art, a huge smile spreading across my face.

"Now I see what you mean about this being for both of us. I love 'em, and they're perfect," I said, leaning forward to kiss him before we each took a pair and started to laugh over the fact that they reminded us of Underoos, but hotter. Since cartoons were my thing, they were very fitting for me, and since Jasper loved seeing me in my underwear, he would be able to appreciate them too.

"Okay, now here's my real gift," he said, putting the heavy package on my lap. Again, I carefully unwrapped it, and was amazed when I opened a framed photo of Jasper and me from our underwear shoot. It was a black and white print, surrounded by a thick black frame with a wide white matte. In the shot, I was standing in front of Jasper, my back against his chest with one arm wrapped behind his neck and the other hand resting on his hip. Both of his hands rested on my hips, and our faces were turned toward each other, temples touching, our eyes closed. It was such an intimate pose, taken as if we didn't know we were being photographed.

My fingers reached out and traced the photo, following the lines of Jasper's face and chest as a smile spread across my face. "Thank you, love. It's so beautiful. Thank you." Crawling toward him, I pushed him onto his back, peppering his face with kisses before I found his lips, trying to show him how much I loved the photograph. Rolling me onto my back, he ground his hips into me, showing me his obvious arousal as he continued to taste my mouth, exploring the deepest reaches, forcing me to lose myself in the moment. When he pulled away to catch his breath, I realized he still hadn't opened his present so I reached for it and shook the box.

"You want to open your gift?" I quirked an eyebrow at him as I started to sit up and he smirked at me. Nodding, he reached for the small box and shook it again, trying to decipher what was inside. "You don't have to guess, you can actually open it, you know?" I teased.

"I know, I just wanted to see if I could figure it out." I laughed, positive that he'd never guess what was inside. The paper was torn off in seconds, revealing a large, hinged jewelry box that he eagerly opened. Inside was an espresso brown leather cuff with two leather straps that closed with silver buckles. He pulled the wide cuff out of the box and put it on his left wrist, fastening the clasps and turning his wrist back and forth, taking in the designs I had tooled into the leather.

Looking up at me, I saw unshed tears in his eyes as he spoke. "This is what you were working on? When did you learn how to do this? I've never seen you work with leather before." His fingers traced the large design of the labyrinth with a sun in the center, a symbol he had drawn, combining his representation of us together: truth and light.

"I got a lesson, and I tried to use symbols that meant something to us." Continuing to look at the wide cuff, I pointed out his designs, showing him the abstract initials for our names that he had designed while he healed. Beside his work, I tooled the infinity symbol because I knew we would always love each other. On the two straps, I added a repeating pattern of two squares that were connected by a line, symbolizing male sexual love. Near the clasp, I tooled the Kanji representation for art, since that was what brought us together. All of these symbols were tied together with a design that encompassed the cuff, making the individual pieces blend into the whole.

With each symbol that I pointed out to him, he traced his fingers over it, outlining the design as if he were drawing it himself. At first his touch was tentative, but soon it became more deliberate. When his fingers ran across the texture on the two matching straps, an impish grin appeared as I explained the significance of the joined squares. Running his palm across the dark leather, he closed his eyes, allowing his sense of touch to take over so he could fully experience the texture of the tooled marks in the pliable material. As his eyes remained shut, I watched as his face spoke of contentment and ease, lines smoothing between his brows as deeper understanding washed across his features.

"Edward, I don't think I've ever gotten a more meaningful gift in my life. The thought and effort you put into this…" He paused, absentmindedly brushing his thumb and forefinger across the cuff as he spoke, a tear finally slipping down his cheek. Reaching for him, I wiped the tear away, bringing my thumb to my mouth to taste the saltiness. "Thank you. I don't know what else to say besides thank you."

"That's all you have to say, Jasper. That's all you'll ever have to say, because I can see on your face how much it means to you. I love you," I told him, grasping his cuffed hand in mine. "I'm not sure how you'll feel about this next part, but I made one for myself too."

His eyes lit up as I reached far under the tree and pulled out a matching, unwrapped jewelry box. When I opened the box, Jasper grabbed the cuff and wrapped it around my left arm, buckling the clasps and then running his fingers across it.

"I'll always have you with me," he whispered as he held up his cuffed wrist and touched it to mine, "and I'll always be with you."

#

Christmas morning I woke up late again, sore in all the right ways from the night before, our love making having lasted what seemed like hours. When I rolled over, Jasper pulled me close, pressing me into his chest and grabbing my ass, making me wince. He immediately apologized, rubbing the small of my back instead.

"Sorry, babe."

"No worries. It was very much worth it, believe me," I grinned as I kissed his perfect, wide mouth.

We lay in bed holding each other close, Jasper fingering our cuffs and both of us looking at the photo of us which we had hung in our bedroom last night. The contentment I felt at that moment was like nothing I had ever experienced before.

Christmas morning was spent searching through stockings, opening the small gifts we bought for each other; a variety of drawing pencils, erasers, some art tools, and chocolate truffles. We took a walk around our neighborhood before we jumped in my car to head to my parents' house.

When we arrived, we both offered to help with dinner, but my mom shooed us out of the kitchen. Rather than sitting around as we had done much of the week, Jasper and I decided to go for a swim, openly touching and kissing each other, unlike the last time we were in my parents' pool together. We were in the shallow end of the pool, Jasper carrying me around on his back while I was placing kisses across the back of his neck and shoulders when my father walked into the solarium and told us supper would be ready in about fifteen minutes. Reluctantly, Jasper let me go, allowing my feet to hit the bottom of the pool before he turned to give me a quick kiss. We were dressed, with our cuffs back on, and seated at the table as my mom brought the last side dish to the table.

As my father said grace, Jasper and I looked across the table at each other. Our bare feet touched under the table while we ate and conversation came easily, as it always did with my parents. Once we were all finished eating, my mother brought out a plate of cookies, including the peanut butter cookies we had made, and coffee. Moving into the family room, we surrounded the large Christmas tree my mother had so beautifully decorated with her theme of the year, birds and bells. My father walked over to his stereo components, and pulled out his records, putting on Mel Torme's Christmas album.

The four of us sat in companionable silence on the couches, gently cuddling our partners who we held close as we had our dessert. It felt really good, sitting around with my parents, people Jasper and I knew we could be ourselves around. Hearing Jasper release a large sigh, I turned to him and saw how content he was with his eyes closed and a small smile forming at the corner of his mouth. My parents looked over at him and caught my eye, happy to see that his Christmas was going so well, when it could have been a sad affair. Gifts were passed around, and as we each took turns opening our presents, Jasper would reach for my knee or put his arm around my shoulder.

Jasper had taken care of ordering my parent's gift, and being quite secretive about it, only allowing me to pay my portion and I understood why, as soon as it was opened.

It was another print of our underwear ad, similar to the one he gave me, but we were looking at each other and laughing, our hands clasped at our sides. They loved it, and my mom knew right where she was going to hang it, across from the photo of us at seventeen, sitting in the boat that was in the solarium. It would be a complimentary photo, with the same subject, comparable color tones, and similar composition. The fact that both were of their son and his partner, made it all the better.

My father handed us a rectangular box that was quite heavy for its size. "This is for both of you," he said. Jasper's enthusiasm took over and I was barely able to remove the card from the box before the wrapping paper tumbled to the floor.

It was a long, hinged wooden box that when opened revealed a professional set of Zwilling J.A. Henckels knives. My eyes lit up when I saw the gift as did Jasper's, both of us appreciating it so much. Now we no longer had to fight over the good knife when we worked in the kitchen.

"Thank you," we both got out at the same time, laughing. My mom pointed to the envelope in my hand, encouraging me to open it. Slipping my finger under the flap, I slid out a thick piece of paper that promised cooking classes for two.

"We know you boys enjoy cooking together," my mom said, "so we thought you'd enjoy some more formal classes. Your dad and I took cooking classes years ago. It was our date night when you were young, Edward. We thought you two would enjoy it as much as we did." Jasper grabbed my hand and stood, pulling me up with him as we made our way over to my parents, thanking them with our hugs and words.

The rest of the evening was spent telling stories about cooking disasters along with a few successes, although those weren't nearly as funny. We gathered around the table and played Cranium, Jasper and I easily winning on the Creative Cat category, causing my father to insist on us not being on the same team. We sipped spiced cider, enjoyed the roaring fire, and too soon the evening had to come to an end.

As I drove home, Jasper reached for my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of my knuckles softly. "Thanks for making Christmas so wonderful, Edward. I think that's the best holiday I've had in a very long time." I looked over at him, not knowing what to say, so I simply smiled and squeezed his hand before I merged onto the Interstate.

Kissing across Jasper's scars on his back that night, I had reached his side to kiss his surgical scar, and had planned to have my way with him when I looked up and saw that he had fallen asleep. He was so peaceful and beautiful in the dim light coming through the window, that I sat back and simply watched him sleep, ghosting my hand over the curves of his back and buttocks. It was hard to fall asleep that night, without his body wrapped around mine so I did my best, snuggling into his side as he slept on his stomach. Only when I reached across his back and wrapped my fingers in his, did I drift off.

#

The next week we spent time working on our art show, trying to tie up as many loose ends as we could before our internships started in January. We knew our time would become more and more constrained, so we did everything possible to organize and plan for our show, the culmination of four years of work.

New Years Eve dawned bright and sunny. At eight that morning, I had an appointment at the bank to electronically transfer money from my account to my mortgage company, freeing us from our house payment. Since it was such a large transaction, I wanted to do it in person in case there were any problems. I still hadn't told Jasper about it, planning on doing it only after the transfer was done, so he wouldn't try to talk me out of something I was positive I wanted to do.

After our mutual shower, I dressed in a thick wool sweater and faded jeans. Standing at our dresser, Jasper helped me put my cuff back on and I did the same for him, before I told him I had a quick appointment I needed to get to. He looked at me curiously, but didn't ask what it was, so I let it go.

My time at the bank went quickly and before I knew it, I was the full owner of a 1921 California bungalow. Not having a mortgage payment would free up our lives, especially Jasper's, and I was excited to tell him about it. When I arrived home, I walked to our closet and pulled out a box I had hidden behind my clothes. He was busy in the studio, so I stepped out the front door and placed the contents of the box in front of the door before setting the cardboard atop and made my way to the studio.

I asked Jasper if he would join me outside, walking with him around the garage to the front yard. When we came up the front steps of the porch, I stopped in front of the door and turned to him, holding both of his hands in mine and looking into his blue eyes.

"Today I went to the bank, and I did something that I hope will make our lives better." I gestured to the box beside our feet, encouraging him to lift it. Jasper bent over and lifted the cardboard revealing an aluminum doormat with our names personalizing it.

"Whitlock Cullen," he said, looking back up at me quizzically. "What does this mean, Edward?"

"I paid off the house, and now it's ours so no more house payments."

He looked back down at the mat and then back at me, his brows furrowing, looking apprehensive.

"But it's not my house. Why is my name cast in metal, and why is it before yours?" he asked, taking a step back before I reached for his hand and drew his body back to mine.

"This house is as much yours as it is mine. If you aren't here, then I'll sell it. This is_ our_ house. This is our house, and _you_ make it home."

He stood in front of me, still and silent, looking deep into my eyes, breathing so shallow I had to strain to hear it. I was fearful I had offended him, basically emasculating him by taking away his responsibility of providing a roof over his own head, but then I saw the tears filling in his eyes. Trying to blink them away, a few escaped the prison of his full lashes, tumbling down his cheeks.

Pulling him into my arms, I whispered in his ear, "This was something I wanted to do for us Jasper. I was losing money hand over fist in some bad investments and my broker and I thought this would be a better option for now." I purposefully didn't mention his money situation.

It wasn't necessary.

Very softly, almost so quietly that I didn't hear, he said, "Thank you. Now I know where home really is."

#

That night we dressed up in suits and ties and made our way to Riley and Paul's commitment ceremony. Jasper wanted to drive, so we took his truck, looking a bit out of place among the Mercedes' and BMW's in the hotel parking lot, but I think that's why he drove; his silent protest for not being completely comfortable coming. The ceremony was simple, with Riley and Paul pledging to be honest and true to each other. They kissed, and everyone cheered as they walked down the rose petal covered aisle. As soon as the chairs were moved aside, the DJ started to play soft jazz and we were able to greet the grooms.

When it was our turn to congratulate them, I was getting a bit nervous, considering the last time I saw Paul he threw a drink in Jasper's face, but I greeted him with a smile nonetheless. "Congratulations, Riley, Paul. You remember Jasper?" They nodded and shook his hand. "We were surprised to get your invitation."

"You, and most of the people in this room," joked Riley. "But I've loved this boy for a very long time," he said as he pulled Paul into a gentle embrace and very passionate kiss. I cleared my throat, offering our congratulations once more before we moved on and found a seat.

After dinner and socializing with several couples at our table, Jasper and I went to the dance floor, holding each other tight as Iron & Wine played, rocking back and forth to the soothing music. Dancing cheek to cheek, I closed my eyes and felt his hands under my suit jacket, lightly caressing my lower back, his touch drifting lower, rounding the curves of my ass before retreating to the middle of my back once again. When I audibly sighed, he pulled back to give me his cocky smile before he winked and kissed me. The next song began and Jasper excused himself, off to get himself a drink and Riley grabbed my hand, just as I was leaving the dance floor to find my seat.

"Hey Edward. Dance with me?" I nodded and tentatively placed my hands on his waist, offering my congratulations again. "Yeah. Enough with the social pleasantries. So you and Jasper are still going strong, huh?"

I couldn't help but smile, a stirring happiness filling me. "You could say that."

"It's obvious just from the few minutes I've seen you two together. I don't think I've ever seen you quite this happy. I've known you for years, and I saw you date lots of guys before we dated. I've never seen your face look so … content. And from the little I talked to him at Eclipse, he's totally into you. So, when are you two going to make it official?" he asked.

"I don't know if we will. I never thought you would, let alone with Paul, as a matter of fact," I admitted.

"Paul and I have been together for nearly three years, on and off, except for when you and I were together. Paul and I fill in each other's gaps, you know what I mean?" I nodded my head, knowing exactly what he meant.

Driving home that night, I was quiet, wondering if Jasper and I would ever publicly commit. The more I thought about it, the happier I got. As we walked up the front porch, Jasper stopped in front of the door and looked down at our names on the doormat, my eyes following.

"So is that how we'll do it?" he asked and I looked at him, his question eluding me. "Edward Whitlock-Cullen and Jasper Whitlock-Cullen? Is that how, or will we be Cullen-Whitlock?"

I inserted the key in the lock and turned without answering him, opening the door and shutting it behind us with a faint click. Leading him to our bedroom, I turned on the light in our closet and wrapped my fingers around his tie, pulling him into the small space.

Thin woolen fabric was pushed over strong broad shoulders and lovingly placed on a wooden hanger. I licked my lips lightly as he was mesmerized by the movement of my tongue. Ever so slowly I slid the slippery silk through the knot at his neck, all the while gazing into his sky blue eyes. Thread wrapped holes reluctantly released cast buttons in a line down his chest and at his wrists before the crisp white shirt puddled to the floor. Metal buckle, supple leather, celluloid button, unlocking teeth, lying in a heap around his ankles as he toed off his shoes and socks. Reverently I undressed him and then hung up every piece of clothing as he watched me take care with his belongings. When he returned the favor, I couldn't help but watch the sinew and muscle move beneath his beautifully pale skin and when our hands removed the last vestiges of clothes, our cocks sprang free from their cotton prisons.

He followed me to our bed, his slight breaths washed across my neck as I paused before the mattress. Holding out a hand to gesture toward the bed, I said one word … Jasper. He lay down in the middle of the cushiony softness of the down comforter as I sat beside him, reaching for his left arm. Slowly and ceremoniously, I slid the pliable leather through the metal clasps, removing the leather symbol, as he did the same for me, setting them aside. We had no need for the cuffs when we were bringing our bodies together, becoming one.

My fingers tangled in his silky, blond curls as I rested on my elbows so I could press my body into him and felt his turgid strength beneath me. The look on his face was eager and expectant. Burying my nose deep in his neck, I breathed in his scent, taking in deep drafts of clove and man, forcing my hips to thrust forward on their own volition. Hot hands smoothed down the skin of my back, dancing over the lines my body created that were now undulating beneath gripping fingers.

"Kiss me, Edward," he whispered.

My open mouth met his, tongues dancing in greeting as if this was the first time, teasing and tasting before a more voracious need took over and we became lost in each others embrace. His kisses moved to my neck, sending tingles shooting in every direction, his mouth the focal point of pleasure.

"I need you inside of me," I beseeched, having never experienced the yearning for our union as intensely as at that moment. I slid off his body as he reached in the bedside table, lying on my side. When he cleaved his chest into my back, I felt the cool wetness of his sheathed cock pressing into me as he lifted my upper thigh with his powerful hand. Warm, wet lips continued to taste the skin on my neck and back as his hips thrust slowly into me, my body meeting him and opening up for him, inviting him to stay.

Quiet words fell from his lips as they touched the shell of my ear. Words I needed to hear. Words I longed to hear.

"You're all I've ever wanted."

"I never want to be without you."

"You make my life complete."

I turned toward him to capture his lips, pulling his mouth to mine with my fingers wrapped in his curls, our bodies straining and joining in sweet passion. Everything about this moment spoke of our union.

It was gentle, passionate, and full of love.

Breathing increased, forcing our mouths to part reluctantly. Eyes closed, soft puffs of air washed across my neck as he reached for me and began to draw his fingers up and down my aching length. Moans and sighs left our parted lips as our hips increased speed, movements becoming erratic. Every part of my skin felt his touch, his breath, his love, as my body shuddered and released in wave after wave, spurring his own orgasm inside of me, crashing over the edge together.

I whimpered as he pulled himself from me, feeling as if I was no longer whole. When he returned to the bed, I turned toward him, drawing him into an embrace and whispered softly before we fell asleep.

"Whitlock-Cullen."

* * *

**Edit: 3/4/12**


	21. Transgressions

**Transgressions**

I'd been with Edward for nearly five months, and fucking him, no, making love to him just as long. When we started this new aspect of our relationship, I was positive I would bottom, knowing that Edward only topped with former lovers, and I liked how it felt to bottom the one time I did it at _Broke Straight Dudes_. Yet, five months later and the only things to penetrate my ass were his talented tongue or his dexterous fingers, but I wasn't complaining at all. In fact, something about fucking Edward's tight ass turned me on so much, that when he climbed on top of me on New Year's with that predatory look in his eyes, I was apprehensive that he was going to finally roll that condom over his cock and bury it deep inside of me. My skin broke into a sweat at the thought, whether he realized my fear or not, but the condom was placed on me, and I gladly took up my familiar role.

I was starting to get more experimental and more confident in exploring his body, though.

It was dusk and we were out in the studio, but it wasn't so dark that we felt the need to turn on any lights. Edward was lying on his stomach, his hips resting on a pillow so that his ass was perched high in the air and his beautiful cheeks were at the perfect height for my explorations as I reclined my body and rested much of my weight on my bent elbow.

Music played in the room, nearly drowned out by the sound of the January thunderstorm outside, rain tumbling down on the overhead glass, warning us of the danger on the other side of the transparent barrier. I could smell the rain. It filled my nostrils with a clean scent and a feeling of restoration.

Pale, lustrous skin of Edward's beautiful ass seemed illuminated from within as the daylight faded, but the pink skin between called to me, begging me to find out its secrets. Reaching for those delicate folds, my finger brushed against them and muscles contracted before they relaxed. I loved to watch how his body responded to my contact, and when he vocalized his pleasure, it only provoked me to find more ways to please him, to make him moan for me, and to see his body quiver in anticipation of my touch.

Raspberry red met pale pink as I delved my tongue into him and tasted him, relishing in his flavor and the feel of his muscles around me. I couldn't help but release wanton noises as I licked the clandestine tissue, flesh that was so secretive not even it's owner fully understood the beauty of its subtle responses.

On that same couch five months ago with the smell of leather and pencils surrounding me, I had first experienced the pleasure of Edward's tongue on me. Fear rushed through me that day at the realization of what he was going to do as he had lifted my hips from the bed, but before I could react, I felt the heavenly caress of his silky tongue pass across my responsive skin, and with that one wet pass, my apprehension fell away as I surrendered to the gratification he was so willing to grant me. That was the day all trepidation passed and I realized I would allow Edward to know my body better than I knew it. It took me time to feel that free in getting to know his body, but eventually I pushed past whatever barriers held me back from giving Edward the same bliss. Rimming was one of his fortes and he basically brought me to my knees every time, so I knew I had a lot to live up to. When I tasted him for the first time, I found that not only did I love everything about it, but also it made making love to Edward so much better.

So, over the last few months, the delicate dance across pleats, relaxing them to slide into silky smoothness became something I craved, and at that moment as my tongue explored, Edward was cussing and arching his back, imploring me to fill him with my cock.

Beside me, I reached for two things as my tongue continued to move in and out of his hot skin, tracing around fine texture, and sensing the spasms that enveloped my tongue as he allowed his body to do what came naturally.

_I love it when he gives in and just feels. I love that I can make his body respond._

Sitting up, I poured a small drop of lube on my fingers and rubbed it around, warming the cool liquid. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked over his shoulder at me, his dark green eyes half hidden by lids heavy with desire. Across his mouth, the most lovely partial smile spread as his teeth bit into his bottom lip. The last vestiges of light bounced off the red and gold in his hair, giving him an angelic glow as he peered at me, impish and so fucking sexy that a hiss escaped my lips, revealing how desperately I wanted him.

He knew it.

He always knew it.

From washing the dishes to cleaning out the gutters, there was little that Edward did that didn't make me groan or cuss or fucking moan for him. I think I used guttural speech more than actually formed words when I was around him.

What was I, a fucking caveman?

For Edward, I'd be anything.

His eyelids slid shut and forehead fell to the leather as my fingers gently massaged his pretty pink hole, and I watched as my fingertip disappeared into his silky heat, skimming past the tight muscle that gave way, so easily welcoming me into his body as contractions drew me in deeper. A slow, deep feral sound vibrated in the room as Edward gave into his body's natural response. Sliding in and out, gently brushing against his prostate, I watched where our bodies were joined, fascinated by the beauty of our union, even though it was only my finger. My left hand massaged his full cheeks, pulling them further apart so I could continue to watch my penetration and see his body further relax.

When I felt he was ready, I reached for the second item, which had been tucked in the bend of my knee to warm it, a clear glass dildo I found in Edward's bedside table. Having never seen this toy before, this was not only the first time we'd used toys in our relationship, but a first for me … ever. After slicking it up with lube, I removed my finger and watched the sleek toy disappear into Edward's anxious body.

His head spun back toward me as soon as he registered what I had done, and the look on his face was one of surprise, which was quickly replaced by gratitude as I filled him with the glass cock.

"I found a little something hidden in your drawer today and thought I'd bring it out to play. Do you like it, Edward?" The skin on his back felt warm and smooth under my palm as I explored the expanse of his pale form. He hummed, deep and low, and the husky tone made me want to pull the toy out of him and replace it with my cock, but just as I was about to, I must have angled it just slightly, enough to rub up against his prostate because his vocalizations shifted from contentment to want and need. "Did I hit your sweet spot, babe?" I asked as I attempted to repeat my actions.

"Oh, fuck. Yes, you did," he said through labored breaths as I continued to find his pleasure point again and again. His relaxed stance of moments ago no longer satisfied him so he moved to a more active position, drawing himself up on all fours so he could press back into the fake dick that I controlled.

Positioning myself between his legs, I lay on my back and rested my head on the pillow underneath his hips, pumping his rigid cock with my left hand, licking and sucking only his head as I continued to work his ass with the toy in my right hand. His head hung loosely between his arms, hair brushing the leather of the daybed, and when his eyes met mine, I smiled around his dusky head before burying his cock deep in my throat.

"Holy fuck, Jas," he barely made out, his vocal chords tightening with lust around his words. Bobbing my head up and down his steel length, I tried to mimic the same movement with the dildo. When my neck tired, I wrapped my left arm around his hips to help support my upper body weight as I scooted down the bed and began licking his balls, taking the heavy orbs into my mouth and lavishing my tongue around them before gently sucking his textured skin and pulling my mouth off him with a wet pop. Pulling his dick back toward my mouth, I engulfed the silky flesh once more, tracing my tongue around his glans, dipping it in his slit, and tasting the drops his body put forth.

I couldn't take it anymore. My cock throbbed, begging me to pay it some attention so I slid out from under Edward and got on my knees behind him before I hastily rolled a condom down my shaft. In my rush, I hadn't realized Edward had repositioned the pillow underneath his chest and arms, supporting his upper body so he could rest more comfortably. The contented look on his face as he rested on his folded arms reminded me of that angel again, and then I looked down and saw the glass cock, still in his ass and I knew he was anything but angelic. He was my dirty boy, and I couldn't wait to fuck him, so I pulled the dildo out of him and pumped my dick a few times.

Sidling up behind Edward's smooth, pale ass, I slid just the head of my cock into his perfect pink opening before I pulled out again. He groaned as the glans of my penis slid past his muscular ring and when I repeated the movement he lifted his upper body off the bed and supported his weight on his hands and arched his back. Again and again, I slipped only the head of my dick into him and pulled out completely allowing him to feel the pleasure of being entered repeatedly. Every time I pressed into him again, his breath would catch and my sensitive head would delight in the feel of his tight ass opening up around it.

Just as I was about to repeat my movements, Edward thrust his hips back into me with a grunt and impaled himself on me, fully sheathing my cock in his ass, which took my breath away. I grabbed his hips as he started to pull away, stopping all movement and begging him to give me a moment or I would shoot my load much earlier than I ever intended.

He chuckled and looked at me over his shoulder again, a gleam in his eye. "That's what you get for teasing me."

"Okay, point taken," I conceded before I drew my hips back and thrust into his warm body a few times before pulling out completely and entering him again. I kept up that dance, thrusting a few times before withdrawing, and before long, Edward was begging me to just fuck him hard. "You want it hard, baby?" He cursed his plea, and in a flash, I had him standing, pressed up against the wall at the head of the daybed, entrapping his cock and fucking him as hard as I could from that position.

My hips met his ass, skin slapping loudly and drowning out the sounds of the torrential rain that now terrorized the glass overhead, as I held onto his waist and threw my head back in delight at the intensity of what I was feeling. To steady himself, Edward placed his palms on the wall, spread wide as his body was pushed into the smooth surface. I worked myself hard, pushing and pulling, rolling my hips to bring him the most pleasure I could from that angle. A layer of sweat started to cover my skin from the exertion I was putting into giving him what he craved and my breaths were short and choppy, burning in my chest.

Burying my face in his neck, I tasted the saltiness of his skin and smelled his musk as I slowed my pace and tried to recover, I felt his hand reach around to caress my hip but my legs started to shake. They trembled from my exhaustion and I knew that I needed to move so I pulled out of his tight body and kneeled, steadying myself on the wall with an outstretched arm as I grasped Edward's hand and urged him to join me on the bed. When he lowered his body, he turned to face me and eased me back against the leather.

"Just relax, Jas. I've gotcha covered," he purred into my ear as he leaned his body over my heaving chest and trailed his wet tongue from behind my ear down my neck. My body reacted with a shiver as his tongue and then teeth touched sensitive flesh. I was so wrapped up in the sensations he was lavishing my neck with that when he sat on my dick, I couldn't contain the drawn out "fuck" that left my lips.

He wasn't gentle with his movements as he rode my cock, and when he sat up, he pulled his feet forward and planted them next to my chest as he leaned back to rest his upper body weight on his palms. Lifting and dropping his hips, he pumped my dick while I recovered, and soon I had enough stamina to give him what he wanted.

Supporting his hips above me, I thrust up, slamming into him as his head fell back and his low voice repeated, "Oh, fuck. Oh yes." I reached for his rock hard cock and started to stroke him, releasing deeply buried groans from his chest. His face was beautiful as he opened his eyes to look at me. A small smile crept across half of his flushed lips for a few moments, and then his face changed; brows furrowing, lips forming into an O, and his eyes squeezing shut. I wanted to come with him so I shut my eyes and gave into the sensations I was feeling, and just as I felt his ass spasm around my cock, I felt myself swell and shoot hard into the condom, savoring the contractions his body gave that seemed to draw my cock in deeper. His stomach was covered in streaks of white cream, and I drew my knees up to offer him a place to rest as he came down from his high.

The last remaining drops of daylight peeked through breaks in the thick clouds as they drifted, taking the thunderstorm away from us, leaving us with only soft, gentle rain that ran in rivulets down the windows. Once Edward caught his breath, he moved across my chest, pulling himself off my overly sensitive cock, and lay next to me, nuzzling into my side as we both drifted off to sleep.

Awhile later, I woke up, condom still on my limp dick, and when I stirred in the inky black room to remove and throw it away, Edward woke next to me. "Hey sweets," I whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you." Leaning over to kiss him, I carded my fingers through his hair before I walked to the trash to make my deposit and then gazed up at the clock. It was nearly seven, and I had work I needed to do before a meeting with a client in the morning.

"I need to go into the office and get the finishing touches put on the Taylor account." I could barely make him out in the darkness, but I saw the luminous skin of his hand reaching for me so I took the invitation and rejoined him. Fingers trailed across my chest, lingering for tantalizing moments on my nipples before he rested his palm above my heart.

"How long do you think you'll be?" he asked with sadness in his voice.

"It shouldn't be too long. When I left on Friday, most of it was done, but I really want to make a good impression on the partners at the pitch tomorrow."

Sitting up, he pulled me to his chest and wrapped his arms around me, drawing me tightly to him. "You taking a shower first?" I nodded. "Can I join you?"

Chuckling, I told him, "Always," and started to sort out our clothes before we made our way in the house.

#

Forty-five minutes later I was using my key card to get into Masen Design. I had been interning there for only a short month, but my work had been appreciated early on, and I had been given more responsibilities because of my skills. One of the partners, Elizabeth, had teased me that they spotted a jewel and were grooming me to become part of the team after I graduated, but I had to prove myself during my time there. When I heard this, I was elated and called Edward the first moment I had privacy. He was more excited about it than I was, partially because he didn't realize the added hours it would mean.

I was able to keep up with classes. Lucky to only have two courses that quarter, I found I was thankful for all those summers I had decided to take the more challenging classes, because I was able to coast fairly easily through my studies, as long as I was able to put in my time at the studio and complete my reading. Each project I did for class I wanted to incorporate into our art show, that being the most important part of my senior year aside from my internship. But with more responsibility came more time I had to devote to my job, and that included after hours work, especially if I wanted to live up to Elizabeth's expectations.

So when I walked into the cubical they had set up for me out in the dimly lit office, I did so with pride and determination. This was my ticket to not only financial freedom, but also a way for me to stop using my body to make money. It had happened for far too long, and while I loved to model from time to time, having to rely on it as my main source of income had become stressful in the last several months as I healed from my injuries, dealt with clients who refused to work with me because of my scars, and experienced the recent decline in jobs my agent called me about. My energy was better put to use on something that could help me long term, so I focused on my internship and our art show.

As I sat down at my desk, I lost myself in my work, and before I knew it, the clock read ten-thirty. I didn't want Edward to worry and since I was later than I initially thought, I called him and let him know I was finishing up and would be home soon.

Edward's internship at _The Seattle Times_ was going very well for him. He was producing a weekly editorial cartoon, which meant he had to be caught up on all current events, so our house had turned into his reading grounds when he wasn't at work. Most of his reading was online, but the kitchen table was now littered with magazines and newspapers, a scissors close by so he could cut out things that were of interest to him.

Everything was ready for the presentation the next day, and I was anxious that they were going to allow me to sit in on the sales pitch. While I hadn't come up with the major idea for the campaign, I did help with minor details that made the work a bit more edgy and would appeal to an additional demographic. When I had made those suggestions, the face of Elizabeth was deadpan, and I thought I had done something wrong in suggesting something that seemed so obvious, but then she smirked. Ever since then, she had been watching me, encouraging me, and trying to make me see the "natural talent" I possessed.

When I arrived home, Edward was already in bed but not yet asleep. He was propped up against the headboard reading an overseas newspaper on his laptop with this black glasses perched on his nose. I placed a kiss on the top of his head as I greeted him and quickly readied myself for bed. As usual, he asked about work, and I asked if anything interesting had happened in the world. This had become our new ritual and a way for both of us to process our day and get it out of our heads if anything was still on our minds.

As I curled around his body in bed that night, soaking in the silky texture of his back on my chest, I sighed in contentment. It seemed like all the puzzle pieces of my life were finally being put together, but the most important one was Edward. Without him, everything else would seem empty and futile.

#

#

Jasper's gentle breaths that washed across my neck began to slow and even out as he fell asleep behind me, arms wrapped around me and fingers resting in my coarse curls, but I was still awake, frustrated by the news that another member of the clergy had been accused of molesting a twelve-year-old boy. How could adults do that to children? With all the news I'd been reading over the last weeks, certain stories would stick with me, whether I wanted them to or not, and what I found was that those were the stories that I needed to draw my editorial cartoons about and try to find some sort of humorous slant, if possible, or else they drove me crazy. Jasper had been patient with me, trying hard to listen to me when I got up on a soapbox and started ranting and raving about something, attempting to work up the passion to get involved in my diatribe, but he was so tired from all his obligations that it was hard for him to keep up some days, especially when he didn't know most of the back story or history of the issues I was going on about because he had no time to read the news or even watch television. Lately, I was his only news source.

While I loved my internship, I tended to take the research to heart, and it made me wonder if I really wanted to do editorial cartooning. On the days that I was creatively stuck, I would end up drawing panels of a recently created cartoon about a gay couple and their life together. It became my stress reliever between the intense news and the challenges of the three classes I was taking, and I was starting to develop the cartoon into something that could possibly go somewhere. I was jealous of Jasper, who was only taking two classes. While I thought his load would be bigger because of the hours he was required to put in at Masen Design, it ended up being about equal with all the research I needed to do to keep my cartoons current.

What this meant in the end was that Jasper and I saw very little of each other. I was glad we had spent so much time working on our art show the previous quarter because we had few hours to devote to it. As a result, even our studio time together was practically nonexistent. It was hard.

Mornings changed to rushed affairs where clipped words were spoken between bites of toast and teeth being brushed. While we continued to take our showers together when our schedules allowed, these were quick, utilitarian moments where lips would occasionally meet for the one or two kisses exchanged in as many days.

Some nights became moments to physically connect with each other and little else. As soon as we brought each other to climax, we fell asleep on still damp chests, even resorting to moving the trash can next to the bed so we could just drop the condom in and fall asleep. It was a testament to how badly we needed sleep and the physical release of sex.

But I missed my Jasper and the easy, relaxed touches we had fallen into during our winter break, and I now understood where his anxiety came from when he had realized the changes our lives were going to take. I missed our unhurried conversations about nothing or the intense talks about our lives.

He stirred behind me, rolling onto his back and starting to mumble. When I turned to face him, his breathing picked up and his brows knit together as his speech became more anxious, so I rested my hand on his chest and tried to calm him with my words. He was worried about something.

For several weeks now, this had been a pattern as he fell asleep. It was usually within the first two hours of drifting off that he would start to talk in his sleep, fear and anxiety lacing his mumbled words. Occasionally I could make out a few words, but none of them made any sense when put together. So I did what I always did, rested my hand on his heart and whispered in his ear, "I'm here Jasper. Everything will work out." This always had an immediate calming effect on him, and he would nuzzle into me and fall back into a peaceful sleep. When I tried to discuss it during the daytime, he wouldn't remember what he dreamed about and passed it off as job stress. I was sure it was anxiety.

The change in our position on the bed must have been what I needed to make the wheels in my brain finally slow down because I gradually felt the world slip as slumber took me away.

#

_I was so hot, sweat dripping down my naked back as I stood before the Trevi fountain in Rome, the scorching summer sun burning and dry. Jasper was back home in Forks while I vacationed alone. He was all I could think about as the spray of the water was carried on the breeze, peppering my chest and cheek with a refreshing mist, but he wasn't there._

_Hot hands startled me as they wrapped around my waist, and I was surprised to feel the silky slide of a wet tongue tracing the lines my perspiration had traveled down. "Mmmm," the deep, rich voice said from afar, much too far away. He was right there, holding me, yet his voice seemed to come from across the piazza and was muffled by the sound of the spilling water of the fountain._

_His tongue didn't stop at my back but continued further down, following the rise and fall of my ass that was just as naked as my torso. I looked down and saw my cock standing long and proud as people walked past me, not paying me any attention. _

_Was I naked and invisible standing in the middle of this town square?_

_Kisses were placed down the back of each leg as his hot hands slid down to hold my anxious dick. Stroking me, I felt him move up behind my body again, tongue tasting me up my center, leaving nothing untouched until he reached my neck. Kisses. Soft and sweet, like a lover's first tentative tastes of their desired's skin. Tongue darting out to retrieve the salty reward for patience._

_My body responded by cussing and my cock twitched in his talented hand as he reached down to tug my balls with the other. Covering my mouth, I couldn't believe I allowed myself to vocalize in such a public place, and when I turned to look at the crowd, I saw they all wore black berets, stereotypically artists._

_He pulled and stroked me, and I was about to come when I realized I didn't know who this was. Who was bringing me such pleasure? I shifted my gaze to his talented hands and followed his arm up toward his face. When my eyes hit his shoulder he was gone. The artists were gone. I was completely clothed, and I was standing in our backyard._

#

I landed with a thud on the floor of our bedroom and blinked rapidly, trying to place where I was and what had happened. Jasper was next to me in a few seconds asking if I was hurt or if I needed anything. More than anything, I felt foolish, not having fallen out of bed since I was a child. Rearranging the comforter, we slipped back under the warm, flannel sheets and easily fell back asleep.

Night after night, someone would dream. It became more erratic, and neither of us knew what to make of it when we woke up in the middle of the night besides having a sense of fear or trepidation. By morning, the dreams were forgotten and our busy lives would begin once again.

Day after day.

Night after night.

Week after week.

It all began to blur together into sheets that were a tangled mess, lights turned on in the middle of the night, and dark circles forming below bloodshot eyes. I'm not sure who had a more difficult time sleeping, but sleep was something we both desperately wanted but neither of us was able to get.

Before I realized it, Valentine's Day had arrived and I had cooked Jasper one of his favorite meals. The table was set with a bouquet of red and creme tulips, candles were lit, and I was waiting for the moment he would arrive. When seven o'clock passed and he still hadn't arrived, I sent a text to him but didn't receive a reply.

By eight o'clock, the tapers were melted over half way down, and I decided to put the food in the refrigerator. I tried calling, but he didn't answer. I left another text, telling him I loved him and wishing him a happy Valentine's Day. At nine-thirty, the candles had burned themselves out, wax dripping all over the white tablecloth, so I put away the flatware, dishes and stemware and pulled the fabric from the table. All that remained on the table of my planned romantic dinner were his favorite flowers.

I was hurt.

While I realized he was busy at work, I had hoped we could put school and projects aside and come together for one night. I missed my best friend. While we still made love, sex wasn't enough.

He seemed to worship my body lately, getting lost in subtle details, but almost as if he were somewhere else. It was hard for me to comprehend, but he gave me everything I wanted physically. Yet it wasn't the physical I craved that night. I ached for the look in his eyes when he used to reach for my hand across the table.

What was he thinking about? What were his worries and fears? We hadn't spoken of those things since winter break nor had I seen him sketch, aside from his work and school assignments, so I couldn't even look in his sketchbooks to get a glimpse of his mind.

Just as I was drifting off to sleep that night, I heard the front door open and Jasper enter. "Oh fuck," he said under his breath, but I noticed it. He rummaged around in the fridge for a few minutes before he came into the bedroom, trying to be as quiet as possible so he wouldn't wake me. Once he was ready for bed, he slid under the covers. I turned toward him and tried to smile, but I was sure it came off as something to pity.

"I'm sorry, Edward. I was … busy."

I nodded and swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat, fighting hard against the tears that were threatening to form. When the stricture had finally been swallowed, I was able to tell him what I so desperately needed to say. "I miss you, Jasper."

"I miss you too, Edward," he said as he reached for my face, a tear quickly falling from his eye, landing on his pillowcase, soon joined by several more.

When he leaned forward to kiss me, I tasted booze mixed with toothpaste. His kiss became ravenous within seconds, as he seemed to need me as badly as I needed him. Desperately we reached for each other, holding onto hair and skin with tight, curling fingers while he slid his body on top of mine and ground his hips roughly into mine. So intense and passionate, I pressed into him, vocalizing each and every moment of pleasure I felt.

As he slid down my body, his teeth scraped across skin and he roughly bit at my nipples, to the point that it was painful, making me draw in my breath through my clenched teeth. When I looked down at my body, I saw teeth marks covering my torso.

"Not so hard, love. It hurts," I told him and his apologetic eyes looked up at me as he took my cock in his mouth and buried it in the back of this throat, swallowing around my head. Wetting his finger with saliva, he pressed it into my ass as he continued to suck up and down my dick, nearly bringing me to my climax before he stopped and opened the bedside table to get lube and a condom.

He was hard and as I reached for him to stroke his length, he pushed my hand away and quickly rolled the condom down his cock. "Roll over," he said in a commanding tone, and I followed his directions, knowing I'd be getting fucked hard, just like I had been asking for lately.

When we were both lubed up, I felt him fairly easily slide into me and it took my breath away. "Oh fuck Jas, that feels so good."

"It does? Huh? You like it when I fuck you hard, don't you Edward?"

"Mmhmm."

When he slammed into me I was taken by surprise at how intense his hip movements were. He pulled me back toward him with each thrust either by holding onto my shoulders or my hips. Dropping to my elbows, I rested and allowed him to do as he pleased as his grunts became loud, filling the room.

He found my sweet spot and it didn't take long before I was spraying the sheets below me with my thick come, and as soon as I had shuddered through my release, Jasper started to pound me even harder, if that was possible. Not that it was painful, but it was so intense that my body started to tighten up, making the experience less than pleasurable. I felt he was near his orgasm so I let it go, trying to relax into his pummeling of my ass. Repeating one word with each thrust, "Fuck," he continued and just as I was about to tell him I needed him to stop, his dick grew thicker and he filled the condom.

As soon as his muscle spasms subsided, he roughly pulled out of me and retreated to the bathroom. I heard the water running at the sink and soon, the shower. When I got up to use the toilet, I saw him through the steamy glass fervently scrubbing his body from head to toe. Taking a moment, I cleaned up with a warm washcloth, wincing at the pain in my ass and took the effort to change the sheets before I climbed back in bed.

Jasper got out of the shower and I waited for him to join me back in bed, but he didn't. When he finally made his reappearance in our bedroom, he did so only to get dressed.

"Where are you going?"

Pulling on his socks, he looked over at me, his face blank, and said nothing. Then he stood up and left the house.

I couldn't sleep.

I left several voice and text messages on his phone, but nothing was returned.

What the hell had happened?

Naked and alone I sat up, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to look back over the last half-hour to see if I could get any answers. When that didn't work, I kept looking backward, the last day, the last week, the last month. What had I missed? That was not my Jasper that just fucked the hell out of me and then left. Something had to have happened.

I put on a pair of sleep pants and walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water when I noticed how much my hand was shaking. Abandoning the water, I headed to the dining room and poured a double shot of whiskey instead, tossing it back easily.

And then another.

And one more.

A slow buzz started to work through my system, numbing the pain that I was in. Not the physical pain, but the doubt and questions I had running on repeat in my mind.

I needed to sleep.

I needed to know where he was.

_I needed to be a part of his life!_

Grabbing the crystal vase, I threw the flowers against the wall, the weight of the lead glass cracking the plaster. The tulips lay scattered across the floor, bruised petals and torn leaves. I stared, looking at the red and the creme against the dark brown floor, water seeping along the grain of the wood.

Stomping off to the kitchen, I grabbed the trashcan and a towel and hastily made my way back to the dining room to clean up my mess. Just as I was finishing up and making sure the wall and floor were dry I ran my hand across the hardwood and met a piece of glass that had been missed, slicing my right hand open along the side. Blood started to drip down my arm to my elbow in thick red lines.

_Flashes._

My body broke out in a cold sweat.

_Jasper's broken body, oozing._

I couldn't catch my breath.

_Slipping away._

My vision faltered for a moment as I reached my phone and tried to dial. Dad.

_So much blood._

Send. Ringing. Once … twice …

"Edward?" His voice was a question.

"Help me. So much blood," I whispered.

_Red. Everything is red._

"Do you need an ambulance?"

"No. I need you."

I wrapped my hand in the towel, saturating it with red, and lay down on the hard floor, eyes focused on the drops of blood that had gathered there. Barely able to catch my breath, I felt my vision continue to fade to black.

When I came to, I was resting on the couch in the living room, my hand bandaged and hushed voices coming from the dining room. I shifted and the supple leather beneath me made its characteristic noise and soon my father and mother, both with concern written on their faces, joined me.

"Where's Jasper, honey?" my mom asked.

Thick tears fell from my eyes as I remembered how I had cut my hand. He had left me, practically the moment he was done fucking me. And that was all it was. Fucking.

Just then a cell phone rang from the other room and my mother left to answer it.

"You have a pretty nasty cut there. I had to put in some stitches because the bleeding just wouldn't stop. Edward, I think you had a panic attack. Did something happen that you'd like to talk to me about?"

"It was the blood," I remembered. "When I was cleaning up the broken vase I cut myself, and I saw the blood. I started thinking about Jasper bleeding and trying to stop it. I don't know what happened, but I was alone and needed to talk to you."

The front door crashed open and I heard Jasper's feet clamoring toward the living room, my mom trying to calm him down. He was frantic when he saw me, falling to his knees in front of the couch and hesitantly reaching for me before he pulled back and then he reached again.

"You can touch him Jasper. He's not going to break," my father chuckled.

Jasper grasped my bandaged hand and turned it, examining it before he met my gaze. Tears easily slid down his cheeks, and he wrapped me in his long arms, pulling me tight to his chest where I felt him silently sob into my shoulder. My parents left the room to give us privacy, but nothing was said. He just continued to cry, holding me.

After several minutes, my mother peeked her head around the corner and motioned that they were going to leave. I mouthed "thank you so much" and held up my hand to my ear to suggest that I would call them in the morning. She blew me a kiss and said, "I love you" so quietly I couldn't hear her over Jasper's heavy breathing and sniffling.

He remained there for I don't know how long, but soon I felt my eyelids drifting shut as I allowed myself to feel the exhaustion that was taking over my body. I only stirred when he pulled away from me, leaving me feeling cold and empty, but he covered me with the softest blanket in the house and left me to sleep with the gentlest kiss on my lips.

The following morning, I woke up to Jasper tentatively calling my name and a breakfast tray being placed over my hips. When I reached for the coffee, I winced at the pain in my hand and he immediately handed me a glass of water and two pain pills. Greedily swallowing them down, I turned to him and said, "We need to talk." He swallowed and nodded at me, eyes drifting down to his bare feet as he took a seat on the coffee table in front of me. "Thank you for breakfast by the way," I quickly said before really starting. "What happened last night, and why did you leave?"

He took a deep breath and sighed, his chest dramatically rising and falling. "I'm not really sure, but I think the alcohol had something to do with it. You see, I drank. I was stressed and I drank." He stopped and shook his head, as if he were clearing it and looked me directly in the eye. "Edward. There isn't any excuse for what I did to you last night. I don't want to blame alcohol or anything else. I made some really bad choices, and I hurt you. I ruined Valentine's Day, and apparently, the wonderful dinner you had made. I'm sorry about that. When I walked in the door and saw the red and creme tulips, I realized what I'd done, but then I fucked it up even worse by—" He stopped, his voice cutting him off because it was so thick with emotion he could no longer speak.

He held up a hand as I took a breath to speak and he shook his head again. "What I did to you in our bed … fucking _our_ bed, Edward." His voice broke "That was just wrong on so many levels that I can't even start to apologize, but I made it even worse." He ran his fingers through his curls, clasping his hands behind his neck before releasing them, allowing them to fall to his knees, and then he looked at me. "I fucking left you there … alone … without a word. Nothing in this world can justify me doing that to you. _Nothing_!" He clenched his fists so tightly that his arms shook from the effort. I reached for his hands, trying to ease his fingers into a more relaxed stance that he only relented to with great effort.

"I didn't feel like I deserved to come back after what I did to you. I didn't even deserve to talk to you, so I didn't respond to your calls. Then your father called me at two in the morning, and I knew something must be wrong. I got home as fast as I could after he told me you were injured and had had a panic attack. When I saw you and realized that you were safe, I lost it … as you saw." He looked down at his now folded hands, as if he were ashamed to look me in the eye. I remained silent, knowing he wasn't done.

A few moments passed before he focused on my face and genuinely said, "I am so sorry Edward. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you like I did."

Recklessly moving the food tray aside, I sat on the edge of the couch and hugged him. When I pulled back I caressed his cheekbones with my thumbs, looking him straight in the eye and said, "I forgive you, Jasper." He pulled me back into a crushing hug and we held each other for several minutes, relishing in the feel of so soft lips caressing the delicate skin on each other's necks.

All thoughts of food were abandoned as he laid me back against the couch, easing my clothes off. He lavished gentle attention to my body, tasting me and kissing me, hands caressing my anxious skin, fingers brushing pebbled nipples. When he took my hard cock in his mouth, he moved slowly, gently massaging all the sensitive parts with expert movements. He didn't take me deep or suck me hard; he only licked and gently worked my head between his full lips, caressing all the right spots. It was the most decadent feeling to be taken so tenderly, the complete opposite of the night before.

Slow and sweet, I felt my body respond to his lavish attention. I couldn't help but tangle my fingers in his curls, tugging slightly when he did something remarkable to my responsive flesh. While I enjoyed every moment, I didn't feel the need to move my body to get greater contact or to verbalize. I was content to quietly enjoy his tongue dipping into my slit as his lips massaged around my head.

Deep in my gut I felt the unmistakable tightening of my impending orgasm and thrust my hips instinctually one time. Opening my eyes, I saw Jasper's blue eyes through his lashes, his mouth kissing my cock. My balls pulled up closer to my body and then it happened; I exploded in his mouth and only then did he take me deep, swallowing around me, massaging my prostate through my perineum to help draw out every drop of fluid.

Even though I hadn't expended any physical energy, my body shook and spasmed beneath him, shuddering as the last remnants of my orgasm left my body. He drew his face up to mine and kissed me before he rested his head in the crook of my neck.

"Never again," he whispered so softly it must have been a reminder to himself.

* * *

**Edit: 3/4/2012**


	22. Diving Deep

**Diving Deep**

The bright florescent lights buzzed above my head as I tried for the fourth time to trace the lines that showed through the proof paper that rested on the light box. Struggling with my drawing ever since I injured the meaty part of my hand during the careless clean up of the crystal vase on Valentine's day, I asked my father to remove the stitches earlier than he desired because they affected my hand's support. When I told him of my challenges at my job, he helped me by bandaging my hand safely, making it smooth enough so that I could continue to draw and heal, even if it was more painful initially.

At that moment, I was finishing my editorial cartoon for the upcoming week, or at least trying to. Every time I would get near the end of filling in the lines with the acid-free permanent ink, I would have a muscle spasm, or my bandage would catch on some invisible debris and I would ruin the entire cell. My mentor at _T__he Seattle Times_ had suggested I ask another cartoonist for some help, but this was my strip, and I wanted to be able to look at it years from now and know that I had worked through the obstacles I faced. So I continued to peer down into the lit desk, the heels of my shoes resting on the rung of the stool. Finally, the fourth attempt was successful, and I held the final piece up and scrutinized it. It would do, as long as it was approved by the editor, which it quickly was.

More and more of my time off was spent creating my comic strip of _Nathaniel __&__ Aiden_, if for no other reason than for stress relief. It was a lighthearted look at the lives of two gay men rather than the heavy news issues I dealt with at work everyday. I found I would occasionally draw strips that were very reflective of my life with Jasper before Christmas, when things were happier for us. I yearned for those days to return.

Life since "the incident" of Valentine's Day, as I now internally referred to it, had been even more stressful than before. Something in Jasper seemed to change after that day. He continued to struggle with sleep, even more so than before, and he put a greater effort into his internship so his time at home decreased even more. I worried that his class work was suffering because of the time he was putting in at Masen Design, but Jasper told me he had everything under control.

When he did sleep, he dreamt about things that made him very anxious. My words whispered in his ear and my touch no longer soothed him, and I would either have to endure watching my love thrash about in emotional anguish or try to wake him, only to be roared at for disturbing him. It was a no-win situation. As of late, I would find him asleep on the daybed in the studio in the morning, projects strewn about.

Interactions between us became sparse with clipped words and short tempers. I found myself second-guessing the way I phrased things before I spoke so I wouldn't set him off, but I knew it was stress so I tried hard to not take it personally. Jasper spent less time at home and more time at the office and the on-campus studio. While I thought it had been hard before, it only got worse. It was as if we were roommates who slept in the same bed, occasionally at the same time.

In March, when he was finally notified of Jessica's upcoming trial, I was expecting the worst, steeling myself for increased verbal outbursts and even worse dreams, but none of that happened. It was basically status quo, which was almost worse; change would have been nice.

The day I was required to be at the trial, Jasper and I dressed in navy blue suits and sat in the courtroom together, waiting for me to be called to the stand and to see if Jasper's testimony was necessary. I breathed a sigh of relief when the prosecutor talked to us during a recess and told us that his testimony wasn't needed.

After lunch, I was sworn in and told my story, breaking down when I started to talk about Jasper's injuries. It couldn't be stopped as flashes of that horrific scene played before my closed eyes. When I looked over at Jasper, shame appeared across his face. I didn't understand why, he had nothing to be ashamed of. During the cross examination, the defense lawyer tried to divert the questioning to the absurd, but I stood firm and with the help of the prosecutor, I wasn't required to answer but a few ridiculous questions.

Mike sat stoically in the courtroom that day, looking over at Jasper and me as we held hands, discreetly resting them on the wooden bench between us. We had been informed that charges were dropped for Mike in return for testifying against Jessica. Although we hadn't heard about this until right before the trial, Jessica and Mike broke up right after Halloween night when she had tried to blame the entire incident on him. When court was adjourned, Mike tried to talk to Jasper but was quickly diverted by Alice. Later I observed her taking Mike outside by the hand and sitting him down on a ledge for a stern conversation. I was very thankful for my cousin who seemed to sense the tension surrounding Jasper and me.

For the most part, the trial stayed out of the news, but I did have a reporter come to me at work and fish around for information when he had heard I was a witness to the crime. After he left, I spoke to my boss about the incident, and even though the reporter got nothing from me, I continued to read the paper religiously. In the end, it was only a paragraph or two, buried deep within the paper. Jasper's name was never used, and I had to wonder if my boss had something to do with the discretion.

The night before the verdict was read Jasper had gone to bed with me and we turned toward each other, hands tucked under pillows and eyes exploring each other's faces. When I tried to speak, he said, "Shhhhh," as he stared at every part of my face. It appeared as if he was searching for something or memorizing what I looked like. I felt exposed, as if he were peering into my soul.

I reached for a golden curl that had made its slow journey down onto his forehead and pushed it back, nestling it among its brothers. Ocean blue eyes pulled me in, and I studied each and every dark lash that outlined the mirror to his soul.

He was lost. Something was very wrong.

"Is it the trial that has you worried?" I asked despite his earlier request.

His gaze darted down to my lips as he shook his head and again he said, "Shhhhh," looking back to my eyes.

I tried to do as he asked, not only quieting my mouth but attempting to silence my fears. It was nearly impossible, and as I lay there watching the love of my life suffer silently, I realized how many weeks it had been since we had really spoken.

"But, Jasper, I nee—" I was cut off by his forefinger on my lips and another shake of his head as he closed his eyes.

Weeks of not talking about anything outside of the mundane or the utilitarian conversations about school and work.

Weeks of going to bed alone … many mornings waking up still alone.

Weeks since he had made love to me.

When would I have the man I loved back? Something happened that changed him dramatically, and work and school didn't explain it. Where did he go? Was he simply hidden behind a brick wall that I needed to crumble?

But each time I tried to talk to him about what was wrong I was diverted, either by an appointment, work projects, or school. Occasionally it would be a kiss that would distract me from my intent, but I willingly went on that journey with him, craving any physical attention he would give me.

Even as we lay in bed gazing at each other, there was a void between our bodies. No tangled limbs. Skin was not pressed to skin. Fingers were no longer tangled in wiry curls. A river of pure white cotton sheeting was visible, and I was terrified to cross that divide, afraid of the rejection I had endured for weeks. It hurt too much to reach for him and watch as he turned his back to me.

Something had happened to him.

As I thought, my eyes had drifted to the space between us and when I looked back to Jasper's face, he was asleep, breaths escaping a tiny part between his full lips, his fresh breath washing over my now upturned face.

Sleep was the last thing my body could do at that moment so I dressed in comfortable clothes, got in my car, and drove. There was no place in particular that I was going, just away from the constant stress of our home. This used to be the place we used as our escape. It was our fortress against the world and now it had become a silent battleground.

A cold war.

I drove for what seemed like hours, listening to nothing but the engine purr, the tires rip through puddles scattered about on the roads, and the musings of a confused and frustrated mind. Deserted, lonely streets passed me by, empty, dark houses, barren parking lots.

I accepted Jasper for who he was; no, I loved him for who he was, and there was little I expected from him beyond what he had already given me for years. I understood him, and I was excited about starting this romantic relationship with him, but he still insisted on dealing with stress and worries alone. That was simply no longer acceptable to me, not when it affected me and our relationship, and certainly not when it affected him so much that he was visibly worn down.

I took a right and realized I was driving down our street again.

Our street.

Our house.

Our bed.

His back was turned to me, and as I slipped under the cool sheets, I nestled up to his body, finally getting the physical contact I had been craving so badly. He slept in front of me, but reached for me with his legs and his hands, drawing me tightly around him. I fell asleep within moments of being back in his familiar embrace, it filling me with contentment like nothing else in the world could.

#

At the courthouse early in the morning, all our family and friends, save Jasper's father, were seated behind the prosecutor. Jessica sat beside her lawyer, eyes never leaving her folded hands that rested on the table, even when her lawyer spoke with her.

Guilty. Assault and battery.

Jasper reached for my knee and squeezed it when the verdict was read, giving me a small, sad smile. We escaped the throng of people as quickly as we could and went back to our lives and our dreadful routine. The verdict had changed nothing.

Buds started to swell on trees and the cold weather plants began peeking through the earth, giving the promise of rebirth. My hand had completely healed so my drawing was unencumbered and the quarter was coming to a close, meaning that our internships would soon be done. As finals neared, we both said goodbye to our mentors and focused our attention on our last projects, delving into the last pieces we needed to produce and essays that we needed to write.

Some days the only thing that reminded me I had a partner was the aluminum welcome mat with our joined names on it that I stepped over as I walked into our house. Other days, I would feel Jasper slide into bed behind me in the middle of the night when I was somewhere just beneath consciousness. My body knew he was there more than my mind because my legs would seek out his legs, tangling together as he pulled me close to his chest.

Grocery lists became our main form of communication.

Eggs  
Milk  
Bread  
Asparagus  
Tangerines  
Rice

I loved to see his neat print. I'd add to the list in my sloppy script.

_Wine  
__Band-Aids  
__Napkins  
__Bagels  
__Tortellini  
__Apples_

Apples. I put the pencil down next to the list and stared at the word. Who knew that the forbidden fruit could have brought us so much delight last year? I chuckled out loud at the thought just as Jasper walked into the kitchen.

"What's so funny?"

"Ah, nothing."

"No seriously, what has you laughing? I haven't seen you laugh in a long time. It's nice." He stood behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist as he placed a tender kiss on my shoulder and I melted into his embrace, closing my eyes to feel all of it.

"I just wrote apples on the grocery list and it made me think about all the trouble apples have gotten us into. That's all."

"Mmhmm," was all he said as he reached for a banana and left the room.

I didn't see him the rest of the day.

#

Spring break arrived and I had a plan, I was going to sit down and try to see what was truly bothering Jasper. There had to be something. That was the only explanation for his absence in my life and it had to be more than school and work stress, but I figured I'd give him a few days to relax, just in case I was wrong.

Rather than using the time off to decompress, he buried himself further, spending hours in the studio and barely taking time to even eat. I resorted to bringing food out to him several times a day or else he just wouldn't eat. It was obvious he was losing weight, pants that used to be snug now hung off his hips.

I was carrying a tray of cheese, chips, and dip, hoping he'd get some more calories into his system this way, when I walked in on him frantically grabbing tissues and wiping his face. Not drawing attention to it, I scanned the room first before I looked into his red, tearstained face, and then he turned his back to me.

"I brought you a snack. Please eat this, love. You need to put some weight back on." I reached for his back belt loops by his hips and pulled his pants up.

"Fucking knock it off, Edward," he spat. "I don't need you fucking mothering me, okay? I've already got one, and she let me fend for myself pretty early on. I don't need you to fucking coddle me. I'm a grown man."

I stepped back when I felt the ferocity coming from him and looked down at his desk. He had been sketching and what was coming out of his fingers was anger … no, rage. Dark black lines. A pencil was not able to help him express his feelings so he had pulled out this charcoals and used the widest part to show the storm that was brewing inside.

My gaze shifted to the wheat colored curls on the back of his head and I ached to see him. "Look at me Jasper," I pleaded. "Just talk to me … please."

He shook his head slowly, dropping his chin to his chest, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. "I can't Edward. This is something I have to bear alone." His voice was soft and dejected.

Stepping to him, I rested my hand on his waist, but he flinched at my touch. I persisted, and he allowed my entire palm to slip under the hem of his shirt and touch the warm skin above his hip. I felt his body relax at our contact, but he didn't move to return my gesture.

"You can talk to me about anything. There's nothing you have to carry all by yourself anymore. I'm here. I'm with you for every single step, Jasper. That's what it means to be partners," I said and I slowly moved my body closer to his, being careful to not startle him, like I was approaching a wild animal. I smelled the clove in his hair, and when I allowed my nose to drift across his neck, I took in the scent of his skin, manly and musky.

Shaking his head, he tried to pull away, but I brought him back to my chest by placing my other hand on his strong shoulder.

"Just talk to me. That's all I ask. Let me in. I can't wait out here on the outskirts of your life while you try to solve every problem alone. You can't always stand on an island, because I'm left on the mainland trying to swim against the current and it's just too strong. I'll never make it to you, and I'm being pulled under."

He faced me, eyes blazing and I took a step back, fearful of the feral stare he gave me. "You think _I'm _not drowning here? Do you think this is easy?" I shook my head. "Do you really think I'm not aware of how this is affecting you?" His voice rose, growing with feeling, and I was sure tears were going to soon fill his sea-blue eyes. "I hear you scream in your sleep, terrified of something. It's that same dream, isn't it, the one you keep having." He stabbed his chest with his finger, so hard that I reached for his hand to stop his assault on his heart. "I know I'm causing that."

"Fucking tell me what's happening. Stop shutting me out. I could do this as your friend, Jas. But I told you before, I can't do this as your lover." I pleaded with him, hoping his barriers would break down, but I could see my words adding another layer of concrete as he added more bricks on top. His face became stoic as he turned away from me.

Looking back at the desk, I glanced at his drawing. There was no discernible pattern, just glancing lines and brazen scribbles, so unlike the photo quality of his sketches. This wasn't art. This was pure and utter hate laid down on textured wood pulp.

What had caused him to feel that so intensely?

I reached for his arm, attempting to turn him back to me, to make him tell me … something.

"Let go of me Edward. I swear to God, do … not … touch me."

But I didn't release my grip; in fact I tightened it, pulling his right elbow toward me, bracing myself for his anger. Never in my life would I have expected what happened.

Tears were falling past his full lashes leaving dark marks on the blue shirt he was wearing. He stomped toward me, shoving me, pushing me away from him, causing me to stumble, and when I stood back up, he pushed again.

"Just get away from me. I ruin everything I touch, and you're too good to be spoiled. Get away from me."

I stood my ground and walked toward him. "I'm not leaving you Jasper. Not until you tell me … give me a reason to leave. And even then, I doubt I'll leave you."

It took about one second to get his response, and it landed deep in my belly … his left fist. I wasn't expecting it and was doubled over, gasping for air when his right fist hit my jaw. Recovering my breath, I ran my shoulder into his chest, forcing him back to the desk, art supplies scattering throughout the room.

"What the fuck?" I said as I stepped back, rubbing my jaw.

His eyes burned, and I saw this wasn't over.

Fight or flight.

My body chose fight, and I had no choice in the matter as he attacked me, fists flying, elbows jabbing, and knees thrusting. I fought back, trying to protect myself, but trying to not hurt him as well.

"Ingrate. Worthless. Fraud." Words spit out with so much venom that they burned as they landed on my ears.

The logical part of my brain started to kick in, and I knew I had to leave or one of us was going to end up not only physically injured but emotionally scarred, if that hadn't already happened.

I shoved him back against the desk and held up my hands. "I'm leaving Jasper. Just let me go out the door and I'll let you be." Our chests rose and fell from the effort our breath took to control. A tear slid down my cheek as I reached behind me, never turning my back to my lover who had just become my enemy, finding the door and leaving.

Not even bothering to return to the house for my wallet, I fished my car keys from my jeans pocket and headed for the garage, knowing that we both needed time and space. I would give him his, and considering this was the only place he could call home, I decided I'd give it to him. I headed for my parents' house.

No tears. No tears until I reached their house.

I turned the stereo on, connected my iPod, and looked for my "Calm the Fuck Down Cullen" playlist. It did nothing for me as I continued to skip songs, feeling more frustrated as the "soothing" music piped through the speakers. I needed thrash metal, something I could scream to … and I found it, yelling into the enclosed space of the car as I merged onto the Interstate toward my parents' house.

Pulling into the driveway, I turned the car off and listened to the silence that gave way to a ringing in my ears left over from the high decibel level the stereo had pumped out.

Still no tears.

My jaw hurt, my side, my arms. But those were just physical injuries, and they were like mere scratches compared to the wound of my heart, the ache in my soul.

_Push it aside._

When I walked in the front door, I heard my mother's voice calling out in greeting and feet padding against the floor as she made her way toward me. I slipped my shoes off and walked to meet her, but as soon as she saw me her jaw dropped and she stopped mid-stride, a gasp escaping her mouth.

"What happened to you?" she nearly shrieked.

I turned to glance at myself in the mirror on the wall beside me and saw why she reacted as she had. Bruises littered my jaw where his knuckles had made contact, blood dripped down from a cut near my eye, and my always-messy hair was somehow in complete disarray. I didn't know how I could have not felt the blood trickling down my face, but when I saw the bruises, I understood why it hurt so much. Jasper could really pack a punch.

"Uh," I hesitated. "Jasper and I got in a fight," I whispered, looking down at the ground.

She reached for my hand and pulled me toward the family room, urging me to sit with her on the couch. When I took a seat, I winced at the pain in my torso. I noticed my mother take an appraising look over the rest of my body, and she reached over to help me pull my shirt over my head. She stood, walking behind me, running her fingers down the center of my back, and when she was satisfied I was uninjured on my back, she returned to sit in front of me and saw the purple marks on my torso.

"So, you two got into it, I see. How is he?" she asked as she raised one brow.

"I highly doubt he's as bad off as me. All I did was shove him."

"Tell me what happened," she said in a calm tone.

When I relayed the story to her, she didn't betray any emotion, listening intently, seemingly without judgment. She would ask questions to clarify things and make me think about my assumptions.

"Something is very obviously bothering him and he doesn't want to talk about it, but you pushed the issue and it ended in a physical fight. Is that the gist of it?"

"Yes."

"Do you love him?" she asked with all sincerity. I nodded. "Do you believe he loves you?" I looked at her and nodded again, pulling my brows together because of the inkling of doubt. "Then you really only have one choice, if you ask me. You have to go to him and work this out, but not right now. I believe he needs some time to cool off, and you need some time to think, if I know you."

I sighed, knowing she was right. She left me sitting on the couch and returned a moment later with the first aid kit and quickly covered my cut in a waterproof bandage, running her fingers down my jaw as she finished her task.

"Relax for a bit. How about a swim? I'll join you in the pool in awhile. I was just finishing up some work. We can do laps like old times, okay?" I slowly nodded and watched her walk toward her studio.

Nothing. I felt nothing at that moment, perhaps stunned by what had happened, but anger wasn't anywhere near the surface like it should have been. Wasn't I supposed to be mad if my boyfriend refused to talk to me and we ended up brawling? Shouldn't I have been sad? But I felt nothing.

Quietly, I walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge to get something to drink before I slowly climbed the stairs, my feet sinking into the plush carpeting on each step. When I reached my room, or what was known as my room, I looked around and saw little that made this space mine. My parents had moved to this house a little over a year ago, leaving most of our belongings in the house they still owned in Forks. Everything in this room was generic, or so it seemed at that moment. It could have just as easily been all white with a black stripe near the bottom of each item, just like in the generic section of the grocery store. I had nothing there that was really mine.

The bed was the only thing that had meaning for me and I turned my back on it, not wanting to be reminded of what I had most likely lost. I stripped and changed into my swimsuit that I found in the dresser, ignoring Jasper's green suit, and made my way down to the solarium where I dove head first into the deep end.

Warm and cocoon-like, the water surrounded me as I swam toward the bottom of the pool, pressure building in my ears, but I continued to kick, pulling the water toward me with my arms, aching to touch the bottom and stay there until I felt something. Rough texture scraped my palms before my feet found it and I kicked off the bottom, my lungs now starving for what only surfacing could bring me. At least I still had the desire to live.

Floating on my back, I allowed the water to wash over my skin and fill my ears, cutting me off from the outside world and allowing me to lose myself in the rays of sun shining through the overhead solarium windows. My slow breaths being drawn in and out of my lungs were over taking my senses, and I closed my eyes to shut out the happy sunlight. It was too fucking bright.

That's when I started to feel it, and _it_ was anger, not sadness like it had been for weeks. I was finally feeling anger, and I took a deep breath, flipping my body over and diving to the bottom of the pool again, scraping my fingertips along the bottom. When my head broke through the surface near the edge, I plunged in again and kicked against the wall, swimming the length of the pool before taking a quick breath and gliding my body near the bottom to the other side. With a deep breath, I pushed off the wall, determined to travel two laps and felt sure I could when I hit the wall. Fire burst in my lungs on my return as the pressure made my ears ache and I wasn't sure I'd make it, but I pushed, kicked my legs hard, and finally slammed my palms into the tile at the side of the pool. Time and time again I dove, swimming a lap or two with one breath, depending on how badly I wanted to feel the burning pain searing in my lungs.

When I surfaced several times, I saw my mother's concerned face peering through the glass partition between the solarium and the house. I knew she was worried about me, but I also knew she was fretting over Jasper. She loved him as a son.

Pushing myself to the limit, I dove and dove and dove, allowing myself only a few fresh breaths before I'd plunge back under the water. My lungs finally screamed at me, and I walked on the floor of the shallow end, chest rising and falling violently for many minutes before I finally felt sated. The physical pain felt good because it numbed the ache that was bubbling up through the anger.

What had he said to me? He had called me a fraud, ungrateful. I stopped. Standing motionless in the middle of the beautiful solarium with the spring sun streaming through the windows and resting on my shoulders, I realized that my lover, my best friend, felt I was worthless.

The tidal wave let loose and silent tears streamed down my face, leaving salty trails on my cheeks as my anguish fell into the pool below. That black rage, that utter hate I had seen on that paper in the studio, that was for me, not for some nameless something. He hated me. When he fucked me on Valentine's Day, he was pouring his anger and loathing into me. I disgusted him so much that he scrubbed himself raw in the shower, trying to wash away every residual part of me.

No wonder he left.

No wonder he no longer wanted to touch me in our bed.

Yet there were times he was still so tender and loving, when his soft lips would brush against mine or his hand would caress my back. There was no hatred in those touches. There was no hatred in the touches he gave me in his sleep, when he reached for me. It made no sense.

My mother must have heard the sobs that escaped me, finally betraying me and no longer allowing me to suffer in silence. She was in her swimsuit and had rushed out when she heard my anguish, quickly running and jumping into the pool to hold me in her arms. Deft fingers carded through my wet, messy hair, soothing me as I wrapped my arms around the tiny woman who understood me better than I understood myself.

She knew.

She understood.

She had left me alone to stew, to get past the anger and was most likely waiting to come into the pool until she knew I was ready for her. My face was buried in her shoulder, my nose being tickled by her caramel locks that smelled of grapefruit, a scent that took me back to my childhood and the moments that she held me on her lap, allowing me to cry it out.

I'm not sure how long I stood there wrapped in my mother's warm embrace, but the tears slowed and eventually dried, but I still couldn't let go. She gave me a strength and solidness that I hadn't felt in weeks, perhaps months. It was as if she was my foundation.

My attention was pulled from my mother when I heard the distinctive sound of my father's dress shoes hitting the hard surface of the solarium floor, and I pulled my face out of my mother's hair and met his eyes, which were full of empathy.

"Jasper isn't hurt. I stopped by your house Edward, after Esme called me and told me what happened. I just wanted to make sure he wasn't hurt and he was fine." I nodded, feeling like shit that I hadn't even considered that he could be injured. Fucker, I internally called myself, disgusted with my selfishness.

Moving behind me, my mother never stopped touching my back as I made my way over to the edge of the pool and threw my elbows over the edge, resting my chin on my folded arms. "How is he otherwise?" I hesitantly questioned all of a sudden fearful he might do something stupid.

"Well, he's disgusted with himself, but I reassured him you were fine and that there was no need to worry. Your mom described your injuries to me on the phone, and I let him know you were here and safe." He paused, looking behind me to my mother, apparently having a silent conversation, as I got lost in the pattern of the tiles beneath my arms. "I brought your wallet and cell phone from your house. Jasper was trying to call you, I guess, and when he got into the house from the studio he heard your phone ringing and found it next to your wallet. Anyway, I set them on the kitchen counter for you. He didn't want you to be without them. I've ordered supper. I hope you don't mind Chinese tonight." I shook my head and turned to face my mom who was looking up at my dad and smiling at him with adoration before I heard him leave the solarium.

My mom knew I needed to talk and she knew that I eventually would. But she was waiting, not pushing at that moment, waiting instead until after we had eaten supper and we were dressed in our pajamas. "Come upstairs with me?" she asked, holding out her hand, which I readily took and followed her as she led me up to her and dad's bedroom. We both crawled into the large bed that she needed two steps to get into. She allowed me to snuggle beside her, as we lay on our backs and looked above through the skylight to the dark sky and pin pricks of light.

"There's more than just this fight today," she stated with no question in her tone. "So how long has this tension been going on? When did it start?"

I was reluctant to tell her everything, still not wanting to betray Jasper even if he did loathe me and think I was worthless, so I told her as much as I could. How we had drifted apart because of work and school, the dreams, insomnia, and that I didn't think the trial was that much of stressor for him. I finally admitted to someone what had happened on Valentine's Day, in as much detail as one was willing to tell their own mother about their sex life. More than anything though, I wanted her to know what happened after that and how Jasper had rejected me, barely touching me and even abandoning our bed. That was what bothered me. And then the words he said.

She listened as she always did, stroking my hair and holding my hand as I told my tale. "Sounds like you and Jasper have hit a rough patch. Your dad and I hit those every so often. It's normal for that to happen, but there's more here, I think, especially with what happened on Valentine's Day. I can see why you pushed the issue with him today. I would have pushed your father too, but Jasper's obviously not ready. As hard as it is to do, you have to give him space right now to work this out. Your father needed a lot of space when we were first married. It drove me crazy not knowing what he was thinking, but eventually he learned that talking about it was better, and soon he started coming to me with his worries. Jasper has never had anyone aside from you, and perhaps Rosalie, that he could really talk to. Do you think you can give him some space?" she genuinely asked.

"That's one reason I left. He has nowhere else to go so I knew I needed to leave." I took a deep breath, turning on my side with my back toward my mother as drowsiness started to overtake me. "Can I stay here for a bit? I'm not sure I'm ready to go back home yet."

"Sure. You stay here as long as you need."

"Thanks. I'm just too angry to go back." I felt drowsy as she rubbed between my shoulder blades, sporadically allowing her nails to scratch. "I'll see you in the morning. I love you," I said before turning toward her and giving her a hug and a kiss.

When I made my way to my bedroom, I stood in the doorway for a few minutes and looked at the bed, the bed Jasper and I had shared on numerous occasions. Abandoning the room, I headed to the family room and found a blanket and pillow and settled myself on the couch.

"Too many memories in your bed?" my father's quiet voice asked from the doorway of the library.

"Yeah," I admitted as he joined me in a wing chair with a drink in his hand.

"Want to talk about it?"

I shook my head, feeling talked out, but he remained, sitting on the chair and enjoying the silence with me. Unwilling to remove my cuff, I fingered the symbols tooled into the leather, studying each of them and contemplating what they meant to me, to Jasper, and for our commitment to each other. After about an hour, my dad stood and walked over to me, sitting on the edge of the couch.

"You two are great together. Don't let this ruin what you have." He rested his hand on my jaw and made sure I was looking in his eyes. "I love you, Edward. You're a great man, don't forget that." He stood then and leaned down to give me a kiss on the forehead before he went up to bed.

I lay there for what seemed like hours before I finally fell asleep, resorting to using QVC as my sleeping aid. Everything was bound to seem better in the morning.

* * *

**Edit: 3/5/2012**


	23. Sketchy Revelations

**Sketchy Revelations**

It was hammering in my head, unsteady but loud, irritating the very skin on the back of my neck with each reverberation. What the fuck was that? Shifting my body, my skin was painfully ripped away from the leather as the sounds of pots and pans being dragged out of the cupboard clanged in my ears. I squinted my eyes tightly together, trying to keep the light away, diving deeper into the darkness that hovered around the edge of my sight, but there was nothing I could do, breakfast was prepared, coaxing me from my sleep with the scent of bacon and eggs.

Fuck.

The smell of crispy bacon took over my senses, calling me to the kitchen, begging me to grab a plate and dig in. But then I remembered who was cooking this meal. It wasn't Jasper, but my mother, and the mere thought of that forced me to turn my body into the couch, burying my nose into the cushions trying to block out the aroma and the memories. It didn't work.

As I sat with my parents around their dining room table, my mother was doing her best to get a read on my emotional state. Occasionally, she'd asked questions that I answered between bites, but more often I'd catch her looking at me, reading my facial expressions. I ended up drinking three cups of coffee, hiding behind my mug. The scrutiny forced the hot liquid down my throat in big gulps, and before I knew it, I was buzzing around the kitchen on a caffeine high, washing dishes and singing depressing songs.

Before my father left for the hospital, he asked me to join him in his office for a few minutes, so I followed him up the stairs and sat in the leather chair across from his desk, my knee bouncing up and down from the caffeine induced anxiety. He shuffled through some papers before he found what he was looking for, which he quickly laid his open palms across, effectively covering it from my sight.

"I understand that Jasper has been under a great deal of stress, is that right?" he asked and I answered with a curt nod. "Stress doesn't excuse the fact that he lashed out at you, but I have to ask this one question. Has Jasper ever hurt you before?"

"No, no, no," I said, sitting on the edge of my seat. "Dad, what happened wasn't anything like that. It was two guys trying to solve their problems with fists instead of words." Relaxing back into the chair, I shared, "He's been pulling away from me for weeks, and I thought it would get better but it's only gotten worse. Yesterday, I pushed the issue because I needed to know why he was so withdrawn. I just wish I knew what was bothering him."

"Well, I might have a partial answer for you." He looked down at the papers beneath his hands, revealing a ledger. "I haven't received a payment from Jasper on his loan since the beginning of December and he hasn't contacted me about it. But I haven't pursued payment either. I know he'll be good for the money once he gets a job." My father stared at me long minute before he stood, tightened the knot in this tie, and smoothed the silk fabric down his chest. "Well, that was really all I wanted to talk about. I didn't want your mom to know about the money because she doesn't need to worry about these things. She worries about you boys enough as it is. You have a good day. I'll see you at supper, if the emergency room stays empty." He chuckled and squeezed my shoulder before he walked from his study, leaving me sitting and staring until I heard the noise of my mother on the stairs outside the door.

I had to make some sort of plan; decide how I was going to go about getting the things I needed at home. Since it was spring break, the school's studios were locked so the likelihood of Jasper being home was very high. What would I say to him? Would he even want to talk to me? Then I remembered his missed calls on my cell phone, but he hadn't left a voice mail so whatever he had to say, he wanted to say it face to face. I didn't feel ready for that yet, afraid that I'd say something I'd regret.

Getting into the shower, I started to wash my hair, deliberately grabbing the mint shampoo and ignoring the clove scented bottle sitting right next to it. Facing the showerhead, I allowed the water to wash over my face as the thick lather of the shampoo slowly slid down my back. The feel on my skin was decadent, and I scowled the moment I realized I was relishing in the feeling of the silky soap on my body. It had been much too long since Jasper had touched me, and I craved it even then. Quickly turning around, I finished rinsing my hair and reached for the soap and washed while I tried to think about what to say to Jasper at home.

_I'm just here to get a few things and then I'll be gone. Please, just let me pack and go. We can talk about this later, but not yet. Not until we've both had time to cool down. I'll be at my parent's for a few days._

That sounded good and I didn't think those phrases could be misconstrued. It didn't give the impression that I was writing him off or that I was letting him off the hook either. I was basically telling him we needed time to think. Jasper had said some hurtful words and I wanted him to better explain himself, but more importantly, I needed to know why I'd been so easily cast aside. But I wasn't ready to talk about it yet, needing more time to sort out my own feelings.

I dressed and made my way to our house to gather some clothes, my laptop, and a few art supplies I thought I might want to use while away. I didn't want to pack much, only enough for a few days.

As it so happened, I arrived at the house at a time he was out, so the conversation I had prepared myself for, never happened. For some reason, I expected our house to look different when I walked in, but it didn't. In fact, nothing had changed. The bed was still made, my towel still hung in the bathroom, and the grocery list with both of our additions still lay on the counter.

Nothing had changed out on the streets on my trip over either. At B&O Espresso, the same girl with the facial piercings had served me coffee with her pretty smile and easy conversation. The newspaper on the table had shouted out its bold headlines with heavy print and cars still drove on the right side of the road.

How could my entire life be turned on its head and the rest of the world still have the audacity to continue on?

I scoffed at my ridiculous thought as I carried the mail over to the kitchen counter and began sorting through it, separating our letters into piles when I finally started to peruse what I had gotten. That's when I saw my letter from the clinic. I quickly opened it, finding that all my tests came back negative and I had no sexually transmitted diseases. Sighing with relief, no matter how many times I got these same results, I was always nervous until that letter came.

When I took all the junk mail to the recycling bin, my eye caught a similar letter from the clinic, folded in thirds with Jasper's name on it. Maybe that's what had been bothering him. Was he worried that he was positive? When we had made our appointments to get tested, he hadn't mentioned being worried. In fact, he had told me he wasn't worried at all because his tests three months prior had all come back clean so he felt like he'd been washed clean of Jessica and James.

We had both been clean for over a year.

Despite knowing what I was doing was wrong and went against my ethics, I had to know what his results were. Maybe this could answer a question. His letter was identical to mine, all negative. This was the test we were waiting for. If we both came back negative, we had decided to stop using condoms because we knew we were in an exclusive relationship and didn't see that changing anytime in the future.

Even with our current state of affairs, I couldn't help but get excited about the possibility of being with Jasper without any barriers, to fully feel him inside of me or to one day feel his silky heat surround me. But then the reality of the situation came crashing down on me. Would we ever be together again? Did he want me?

I forcefully threw the letter and recycling in the bin and tossed clothes in my small overnight bag, trying hard to avoid looking around the house as I gathered things. Wanting to get in and out as fast as possible, I haphazardly grabbed tops and bottoms, socks, underwear, and toiletries, zipping them into the navy blue bag.

When I walked into the studio, I noticed all our tools that had been scattered on the maple floor when we fought had been picked up and put in their respective places. It appeared some supplies had gotten broken and were placed in the trash, but Jasper had already replaced them, a transparent bag laying on his desktop as if it were tossed there in a rush. I ran my fingers over the see-thru film and saw a set of Caran d'Ache colored pencils that easily cost one-hundred and twenty dollars. When I reached for the trash I found three of my broken pencils, yet rather than spend the three or four dollars each to replace those, he bought another entire set. I shook my head leaving the clear bag where it lay as I threw my needed supplies in my carry-on and walked back to my car.

At my parents', I refused to unpack, deciding I would live out of my suitcase since I was only going to be there for a few nights at the most. The only things I allowed myself to unpack were my computer, my digital drawing pad, my sketchbook, and a few drawing tools, so I could work on several projects.

I avoided my room like the plague since it only brought me memories of Jasper, from the bed to the clothes of mine he'd occasionally wear that sat in the dresser drawers. The pain was still too fresh for me to be physically close to something that could still possibly smell like him.

My mom insisted that I abandon the couch and sleep in a guest room, so I chose the room that looked the least like anything that Jasper and I had ever shared, a room that looked like a floral garden, decorated in yellows and purples. It did remind me of spring crocuses and daffodils which would be blooming very soon, alongside Jasper's favorite tulips. I threw my fist into my pillow at my thought, wincing with the emotional pain I felt in my gut.

My muscles ached too, not only from the rigorous swimming, but also from Jasper's punches that had landed on my torso. I was still angry about the entire thing, but the longer I thought about it, I realized how trapped he must have felt when I'd confronted him. Not only had he turned his body away from me, silently asking me to leave him alone, but then he had pleaded with me to go. Yet I had persisted, needing to know what was wrong, but never in my life had I expected him to hit me. That's when it dawned on me. I had him physically cornered in the studio. There was nowhere for him to escape unless he would've broken one of the windows and crawled out. No wonder he lashed out when I refused to give up.

I shook my head, not knowing what to feel at that moment. In fact, I hadn't felt much of anything since I cried in the pool the day before. Somehow, I had gone numb again, trying to protect myself from the ache; from the ache of not knowing and the inability of finding out in my self-imposed limbo.

#

Spring break, the time I had hoped to use to reconnect with Jasper, was spent living apart. Rather than sleeping wrapped in his arms and spending lazy mornings in the studio sipping coffee, sketching, and talking, I was sleeping alone and waking up to the sound of rattling pots and pans from my parents' kitchen. Swimming had become the one thing I did to find solace, and that only helped when I really pushed myself to the point that my lungs burned in my chest.

At least twice a day I would swim, my mother joining me on occasion. I didn't push myself hard when she was in the pool with me because I didn't want to frighten her with my intensity.

We were both climbing out after swimming laps for twenty minutes, our muscles fatigued, when she suggested we sit in the hot tub and talk. The hot water burned a bit when I first dipped my foot in, and I drew a breath through my clenched teeth before lowering myself to the seat across from my mother.

"Are you thinking about going back to your house soon, working it out with Jasper?" she asked in a non-judgmental tone.

"I was thinking about going back later tonight."

"Do you feel ready, or are you still feeling angry about things?"

I took a deep breath and pushed my fingers through my slicked back hair, tousling the strands back into their characteristic mess, allowing myself a few moments to phrase my answer. "I'm not really feeling much of anything lately. Certainly not anger. Guilt, perhaps?"

"Guilt? What for?" She slid around the bench, moving closer to me as her eyes looked concerned.

"If I hadn't been so adamant about getting Jasper to talk, he wouldn't have ever felt so caged, and I'd still be living with him and at least possibly sleeping in the same bed as him."

"Edward, honey," she reached for my hand under the swirling water, "what was it that made you decide to finally push the issue with Jasper in the first place?"

"I was tired of being shut out of his life, sick of being ignored, and I knew he was acting that way because of more than just stress. He'd been crying. Something's very wrong, and it kills me to see him suffer alone when I'm right there in the same room ready to help share any burden he's willing to hand over. But that's just it, mom. He's never willing to share. He keeps it all locked up inside." I leaned my head back on the edge of the whirlpool and looked up at the glass ceiling, studying the vertical and horizontal lines of the frame. "You know, I remember friends in high school and college not being able to read Jasper very well, and I never got that. They'd come to me and get me to decipher how he was feeling or translate what he meant by a comment. I was able to read him like an open book so I never saw what they did until I came out to him. The cover of his book was slammed shut that day, and then I finally saw what everyone else had been talking about. He had always let me in so it scared the shit out of me to not know what was happening inside his head anymore."

"I know that was a really difficult time for you. I was always thankful you were home when you were first dealing with that rather than alone at college."

I nodded in agreement and looked back down into the circling water.

"It's only happened a few other times in the seven years I've known him, and I found that if I just let him have his space he'd eventually come to talk to me. But instead of things getting better and him starting to finally open up like usual, it's actually gotten worse. He rarely sleeps in the same bed as me anymore, and its been over a month since…" I stopped myself from sharing too much with my mother. She didn't need to know that.

"Edward, you shouldn't feel bad about wanting to be a part of your partner's struggles. As I told you the other day, I understand how you feel because I've been there. Maybe if you go home and try to tell him what you told me, he'd be willing to talk to you, or at the very least, listen to what you have to say."

"But some of the things he said that day … I'm not sure he even wants to be in the same room as me."

"Are you sure he was saying those things about you? What if he was saying those things about himself? You have to decide if you're willing to find out. Is he worth taking that risk with your pride?" she asked with all sincerity.

"My pride?" I met her eyes, confused by her question, but as she remained silent, studying my face, my answer fell into place. "I would risk everything for Jasper, even my pride. Without him there's really no reason for the sun to shine. I love him so fucking much, Mom," I said, clenching my fist above the water, feeling the intensity of my feelings in my fingers. "Plain and simple, I need him in my life."

"Then what are you doing sitting in here?" she asked with a smile on her face.

"Good question. I'm going home today."

I felt a new spring in my step as I climbed onto the cool floor and made my way over to the solarium shower I had avoided for the last several days because of the two photos of Jasper and me flanking the door. After a quick shower, I wrapped myself in a soft robe and finally allowed myself a moment to study the photos of us. Boys and men. We had both acted like petulant children during the last several months, but now it was time to act like grown men who talked through their problems. Running my water-wrinkled fingertips across Jasper's image on both photos, I couldn't help but feel hopeful that we would work out our problems. There was nothing I wanted more than Jasper at the center of my life.

I jogged up to the guest bedroom and quickly packed my bags while I heard my mother's laughter coming up the stairs. Perhaps my behavior was amusing, but I didn't have time to think about it. Urgency had finally taken over the lethargic apathy I'd felt for the last several days, and I couldn't wait to get back to our house. With a quick kiss on the cheek for my mom, I headed out to the car and sped down the Interstate, never feeling happier to exit and turn onto our sleepy street.

Not taking the time to open the garage door, I parked in the driveway and ran up the steps to the front door, throwing it open and kicking my shoes off before I went in search of Jasper.

"Jasper," I shouted as I made my way around the house; the kitchen, living room, dining room. He wasn't in the house, so I assumed he was in the studio, and when I discovered he wasn't there either, I checked the garage to find that both his truck and motorcycle were missing. Strange.

I decided to text him, make the first move, and ask him when he planned on being home. A few minutes later I received a response.

_Running errands. Won't be home for about 2 hrs. You there? Love_

The phone rang and I moved to answer it before I had a chance to text back.

"Hello."

"May I speak to Mr. Jasper Whitlock?"

"Sorry, but he's not at home right now."

"Mr. Whitlock, this cat and mouse game has gone on long enough. All we're asking from you is a small monthly payment to pay off the debt you incurred."

"Look, I don't know who you are, but as I already stated, I am not Jasper Whitlock. He isn't home, but if you tell me your name and number I'll make sure he gets your message." The jerk on the line seemed to get it and gave me his information, which I wrote down on the pad next to the phone. My brows furrowed as I shook the frustration of that call off and tried to forget about its implications.

I reached for the mail to see if anything interesting had come when I saw a credit card statement of Jasper's with "Past Due" printed in red. Looking away as quickly as I could, I tried to find a piece of interesting mail to distract me from what I had seen. Credit card? Past due? Jasper hated credit, and the whole reason he took out the loan from my father was to avoid that. Yet, here he had a credit card that was past due.

That's when all the pieces started to come together. How had I not seen it before? The lack of sleep, decreased appetite, short temper. It all added up to the anxiety of Jasper needing money, and it made perfect sense.

When our internships started in January, Jasper had put in so many hours he couldn't have possibly worked for the modeling agency. There just weren't enough hours in the day. On top of that, he was putting in numerous hours in the studio finishing up his last classes and working on our art show.

I had hoped that by paying off the house he'd have less of a financial burden. Some extra expenses must have come up, perhaps for school or even the internship. He was still paying off his motorcycle. My mind kept thinking of all the things he had to pay for, and then I started thinking about Christmas presents, the art supplies he had just bought, and he was out buying groceries.

Opening up my laptop, I logged onto our credit union's website. The account we had started together to help pay for things we would do together was nearly empty. He had withdrawn two thousand dollars leaving only twenty-five in the savings account.

What the fuck was going on?

I walked out to the studio trying to search for clues. Not hopeful that I'd find anything out there, I was surprised when I saw a poster with a photo of his motorcycle on it under the bold words FOR SALE. He was selling his beloved bike? What kind of financial trouble had he gotten into?

That's when it hit me. Medical bills. My palm hit my forehead with a dull slap as yet another revelation came over me. How could I have missed it? It wasn't simple expenses here and there. His stress about money probably ran into the tens of thousands considering his surgery and days spent in the hospital.

"Fuck, how could you be so fucking blind?" I yelled at myself. "Fucking idiot!"

I paced back and forth in front of our desks, irate at myself for being oblivious to what would have been obvious to most others. Medical bills had rarely been an issue at my house growing up because my father would often diagnose earaches in the middle of the night. When bills came due, my father's insurance was comprehensive so it covered most expenses. Jasper, on the other hand, had the medical insurance that he could purchase through the school and it not only had a high deductible, but very poor coverage. I wondered how much of his accident was even covered by insurance. And shouldn't Jessica have to pay for some sort of damages? No, her trial was a criminal not a civil trial so it was all falling on Jasper's shoulders.

Sitting heavily in his desk chair, I rested my head on the tabletop, rolling onto my temple. Slowly, I let my eyes trail over all of the things on the side of Jasper's desk: tools, pencils, blank DVD's, a water bottle, his latest sketchbook. I stopped moving my eyes about and started taking shallow breaths as I dragged the sketchbook closer to me.

Pulling myself up, I sat at his desk and carefully opened his sketchbook, the book that gave me a glimpse into his soul. Though I hadn't seen him sketch for months, it appeared I was wrong in my assumption that he had stopped all together. I did notice that this wasn't the labyrinth sketchbook I had bought him, but a tattered book he appeared to get on clearance from a local art store based on the yellow sticker on the front. That alone spoke volumes to me. Jasper was always willing to spend money on a sketchbook, knowing that quality was necessary if his work was going to last, but this was a cheap, student's sketchbook that had poorly textured paper that couldn't even give him the sensual feel I knew he loved when he put his pencil to the paper's surface. What was in this book wasn't meant to last. It only served as a tool to work through things, and then he would most likely discard it.

Right there on the pages before me was the stress he was feeling. Some of the images were disturbing considering the knowledge I now had. There were pages filled with medical equipment: needles, syringes, heart monitors that were flat lining, and gurneys with sheet-covered bodies. All of those images were surrounded by abstract symbols for money that were barely recognizable. I shuddered at the meaning behind what I saw on the paper and continued to page through his book.

While on the first several pages I saw some typical sketches that Jasper would do simply to relax, later it all became more of this obsessed, detailed look at money and medicine. Occasionally, an image of Jessica or Mike would pop up, all hastily put down, as if they weren't worthy of putting time into.

When I turned a page, I was surprised to see an image of Jasper's back with his scars flawlessly represented. Not only was this a sketch of his body, but it was a typographical study as well, the words "All you have ever seen is beauty" were carefully crafted in one of his original fonts. On the next several pages were more quotes all related to his scars and how my kisses made him feel whole again. "You never shied away" and "Your mouth is the only medicine I will ever need."

A dull sensation started beneath my sternum, growing into a tingling pang as I realized how deeply my ritual of kissing his back each night had affected him. Even that had been taken away from us because of our insomnia, ripped away and tossed aside. My fingers hovered above the graphite words, unwilling to touch them, fearful they would disappear as a single tear slipped down my cheek. I wiped roughly at my face and took a deep breath before I continued looking through the pages.

By the time I had gotten to February in his sketchbook, most of the beauty was gone and his drawing became more frenzied in nature. I passed a particularly confusing image and flipped the shoddy paper to reveal a series of sketches I didn't entirely understand at first. The first image was of Jasper sitting on a couch with another man I didn't recognize. Studying his face, I tried to place him at school but then figured it was probably someone he knew from his internship.

When I turned the page, Jasper had taken his shirt off, and I noticed the other man was nearly naked.

I heard blood rushing in my ears and my breathing stopped.

Did he cheat on me? Who was this guy? Was this why he stopped having sex with me?

The next page.

Both were naked. The couch was now a bed. A video camera sitting on a tripod was drawn in the lower left corner.

_Broke Straight Dudes_.

All the blood seemed to drain away from my head, dropping quickly to my gut where a burning hole had been ripped open. I reached for my belly, positive my fingers would be licked by flames and was disappointed when my fingertips only touched cotton jersey.

I took a quick breath, finally realizing I had yet to continue breathing.

From the few minutes I had seen Jasper's video while it played at the Halloween party, I would have been able to recognize James anywhere. That man on those pages was not James, which could only mean one thing.

Standing from Jasper's chair, I closed his sketchbook and placed it in its proper spot before pushing his chair into his desk. I turned to leave the studio, closing and locking the door behind me. I arrived in the house and within minutes, I had removed all traces that I had been there that afternoon and was back on the Interstate driving toward my parent's home.

"Did you and Jasper get a chance to talk?" my mom asked when I walked in her house, but I held up a hand and barely shook my head before walking up the stairs and opening the door to my room. It was _my_ room and I was going to stay in it.

_Broke Straight Dudes_ wasn't something he would do again. It had nearly destroyed him when he had gone there in August, but maybe he was just processing stuff that happened back then. He had promised he wouldn't go back there, but I had to know if my suspicions were true. I sat on my bed and set my laptop across my thighs, allowing the computer a moment to wake up. _Broke Straight Dudes_ I typed into the search bar, and I stared at the words for a few beats before I finally found the nerve to hit the return key.

Jasper was on the front page of their website, so I knew that not only was I on the right site, but I would soon find out if my suspicions were correct. I immediately clicked on "membership" and paid for a three day special using my debit card. Searching through the videos, I found Jasper's and could tell which were recorded last summer because he was tanned. Ignoring those, I reluctantly clicked on the lone image of a pale Jasper, the one where he looked terrified in the still shot, and I pushed play.

"So, why don't you tell us your names and how old you are?" the director, who I assumed was Jake, said.

"I'm Felix and I'm nineteen," said the big dark haired guy with olive skin sitting next to Jasper. He reminded me of Emmett, but didn't have the gentleness that Emmett did. This guy seemed scary and mean.

"I'm Jasper and I'm twenty-two." The look on his face was one of determined obstinacy.

Jake continued to talk in his simpering voice, and I cringed at the sound as he cajoled more information out of the men that he obviously knew. He was only asking for the viewer's sake, and in my case, I could care less what size shoe Felix wore or if he was cut or uncut. I knew I'd see them both naked in moments anyway, but rather than allowing the guys to go ahead and do what came naturally, he basically directed everything from the sidelines, telling them to stand up, turn around, pull their pants down, bend over so we could see their asses.

I was sickened by everything I was seeing on the screen of my computer, but I couldn't pull my eyes away, drawn to it like a train wreck. Within moments of hitting play, numbness had spread through my body, deadening my feelings, protecting me from what I was seeing, making it possible for me to watch because I had to know what happened, and I had to listen to see if there were any more clues for me to understand why he no longer wanted me. If he could have sex with a stranger, why could he no longer make love to me?

"Felix, so have you ever fucked or been fucked by a guy before?" Jake asked and Felix shook his head in the negative. "All right, all right. Well, we're going to change that today. So you're straight, right?" Felix confirmed he was straight and had a girlfriend who had no idea he was there.

"Jasper, we know you've been fucked by a guy before because it happened on this very couch. It was James, right?" Jasper nodded his head before Jake continued. "So do you still consider yourself straight?"

Jasper glared at him, and I could feel the hate rolling through my screen. "Actually Jake, I'm gay."

"Ooooo. What a change from the last time you were here. Do you have a boyfriend?" Jake asked and Jasper's only response was a quick nod. "Does he know you're here?"

"No, he doesn't know I'm here and I'm going to keep it that way if I can," he admitted.

Finally he allowed the men to sit back down on the couch and started talking about what was going to happen during their scene.

"Jasper, since you've bottomed before, and on top of that you're gay, we're going to have you bottom again." Jasper's eyes got wide and he shook his head.

"No. I don't wanna bottom. I'll top, like we talked about, but I won't bottom."

"Why not? I'm sure your boyfriend has plugged your ass plenty of times, so what's the difference?" Jake sneered.

"As a matter of fact, my boyfriend has never fucked me. I've only topped." While his voice had started off strong, he finished up his statement quietly, unassuming.

"Well," Jake said, "today you're going to bottom, and I'll pay you fifteen-hundred dollars."

"If I bottom, two thousand," Jasper said with challenge in his eyes. Jake must have seen that Jasper would walk, so he agreed to the price and then asked what he needed the money for. "Bills," was all Jasper would give the man.

"Let's get fucking. Felix, will you kiss Jasper?" Felix hesitated for a few moments, eyes darting from Jasper's mouth to his eyes several times before he finally decided to lean in. He slammed his eyes shut tightly as he barely touched his lips to Jasper's, who kept his eyes open and didn't return the gesture at all. "Come on, you can do better than that, especially you Jasper. It's two thousand dollars. I think you can kiss him for that, don't you?"

Jasper took a deep breath through his nose and looked up at the ceiling as if he was saying a silent prayer before he closed his eyes and started kissing Felix, opening his mouth, his tongue darting out and brushing against Felix's tongue.

My chin started to quiver as I watched my lover, my partner, my best friend kissing another man. I tried to shake it off, telling myself that he only did this for the money. They both started undressing each other, occasionally taking over to remove their own pants or unbuckle a complicated belt, all the while kissing. Soon they were both naked on the couch and their hands started traveling over nipples, down abdomens, and Felix took Jasper's soft cock in his mouth, freeing a low groan from deep within Jasper's chest.

I forced myself to watch as the couch was laid flat and became the bed that Jasper was going to be fucked on. Heavy breathing filled my computer speakers, and I was glad I'd had the forethought to close my bedroom door when I first entered. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion and the weight I felt upon my shoulders and limbs was impenetrable. At that point, I wouldn't have been able to turn the video off. My hands felt like they were encased in stone.

Felix and Jasper maneuvered around the bed, following the inane instructions of Jake, who talked to them as if they had no idea what to do. "Now Jasper, you suck Felix off. I want you to lick Jasper's ass. Felix stick your finger in his ass."

Just listening to his voice made the bile in my stomach rise, but I didn't allow my eyes to move. I needed to see this no matter how much it hurt, if only to confirm that it actually happened. My hope was that it hadn't, that Jasper left the room, but by that point, I knew it had. Did he enjoy himself? Was this the reason he'd withdrawn so much? If I could keep the pain away and be numb for a few minutes longer, perhaps it would all start to make more sense, because at that moment, it still wasn't adding up.

Before long, Felix rolled on a condom and was pressing himself into Jasper, who was on all fours. I could see the pain on his face as Felix kept pushing forward, not giving Jasper the time he needed to relax, and it pissed me off. "Slow down, you fuck," I yelled powerlessly at my laptop as Felix was purely using Jasper for his own pleasure.

Jasper rested on his forearms and arched his back, forcing himself to relax, and I could tell the moment he finally achieved his goal because the lines on his forehead evened out and his brows slipped under his blond curls as he sensed a fleeting moment of pleasure. While pain was no longer readable, within seconds neither was enjoyment, only blank indifference. But once I knew Jasper wasn't going to be physically injured, I could relax a small measure.

Any sense of relaxation I achieved didn't last long though, as Felix pounded into Jasper, fucking him so hard and fast that Jasper was just a receptacle for Felix's cock. Jasper's eyes looked dead, no spark left … haunted as the camera occasionally panned away from his ass long enough to show me the blue of his gaze. His cock was completely flaccid, and not once did he reach to touch himself to bring himself even a modicum of pleasure. A few times I caught him clenching his jaw, working the muscles below his ear, a tell tale sign that he was simply enduring, waiting for Felix to be done.

It wasn't long before Felix had to pull out of Jasper and rip his condom off so that he could jerk himself off to get the money shot. Jasper lay back on the bed and let Felix shoot on his stomach while he forced his eyes shut and furiously worked his own cock, laboring hard in an attempt to bring himself to climax. He was having difficulties getting off, and Jake told Felix to suck Jasper's cock again, but Jasper pushed him aside, refusing his mouth. Jasper shifted his body so he wasn't looking directly at the camera, Jake, or Felix and concentrated hard on bringing himself to climax. When he finally came across his chest, he curled his body forward and whispered my name, so softly that others wouldn't have recognized what he said. But I knew.

"That was hot," Jake said from off camera as both men sat up on the bed and looked into the camera. Jasper grabbed his clothes and left the room, slamming the door behind him before Jake asked Felix, "Not a bad way to spend Valentine's Day now, was it?"

They continued to talk on the video, but I heard nothing as I stared at the screen. Not a sound was able to penetrate my anguish at that moment.

The video ended and I threw my laptop onto the bed just in time before the bile rose into my mouth again. I made it to the toilet and purged my stomach of every thing in record time, dry heaving again and again as the realization of what I had just watched meant.

A soft knock was heard on my door and soon I felt the small, warm hands of my mother at the back of my sweaty neck. "Are you ill, sweetie?" I shook my head quickly, inducing another round of fruitless muscle contractions. "You found out what was wrong with Jasper?" I nodded into the toilet. Water ran in the sink and soon a cool, wet towel was placed at my neck. Sitting up, I flushed the toilet and used the cool washcloth to wipe my sweat-drenched face and clear away the unreleased tears. My mother helped me stand, and I rinsed out my mouth. I made my way back to my bed, closing the laptop and setting it on the floor as I lay on top of the comforter. In a few minutes, my mother had brought me a tray with water, ginger ale, and soda crackers. She sat on the bed next to me, running her fingers across the back of my hand.

My mind shut down as I closed off my heart to what I'd just seen.

Nothing was going to get in. I wouldn't let it.

* * *

**Edit: 3/5/2012**


	24. Shading

**Shading**

Wrapping a white towel around my waist, I walked to the dresser and pulled out my slimmest pair of jeans. I was hoping the twenty-nine inch waist would disguise my weight loss, but as I pulled the faded denim up my legs and buttoned the fly shut, they fell below my hips. Resigned, I walked to the closet, throwing my towel over the door handle and found my black leather belt. As soon as it was slipped through the belt loops, I slid the leather through the nickel buckle and pulled. I passed the worn and stretched hole that had been used for years, ignored the one that I used after my splenectomy, and passed the pristine punctures that had never been touched. I could have kept going but decided to use the last notch and watched as my pants dropped even further down my hips with the added weight of the leather and metal. Violently unbuckling the belt, I ripped it from my pants and hung it up before dragging a random sweater over my blond head and hanging my towel to dry in the bathroom.

In the kitchen, I searched for something that I thought I might be able to stomach—opening cupboards, peering in the fridge, scanning the lazy Susan. Just looking at the colorful boxes of food and the fruit wrapped in its perfect skin sickened me. I resorted to making dry toast, knowing that hours later it would remain untouched on my plate, but I had to make the effort. I had to try to eat.

When I unlocked the studio, I felt relief the moment I breathed in the scent of pencils and paper warmed by the sunlight. The first thing I did was slip my shoes off so I could feel my bare feet on the warm wood. This had become my sanctuary, the one place I felt I could let go and allow myself to feel the terror that had been building inside for weeks. It was also a place I knew I would most likely find privacy, Edward having pretty much given up using this space during his internship. He had said that there just wasn't enough room for him to spread out with all his research and he wanted me to have a place to work. The only times we worked together anymore were when we spent the rare afternoon working on our art show. So, whether it was intentional or not, we now had separate workspaces: a first for both of us.

I pulled my shitty sketchbook out from under the tray in my top drawer. Piece of shit for a piece of shit. I didn't deserve to have anything else.

Opening the scratched and tattered cover, I saw the musings of a madman. I wondered what Edvard Munch had in his private sketchbooks. Did he ever process his fucked up thoughts on paper like this? That's what I had been reduced to, telling a student sketchbook my deepest fears, holding everything inside until I could pull this tattered pulp from it's hiding spot and finally let go in the only way I knew how to deal with the lunacy that needed to escape.

I looked forward to the day that I could burn these pages, make all those memories try to float away with the smoke, but I knew they never would. They would sink down the chimney and hover below the flame, unscathed by its heat, to finally escape into the house and follow me from room to room, trailing at my heels. They would curl around my legs and use my remaining strength to climb up my body and suffocate me, leaving me how I should have been left months ago, bleeding and dead.

So many lives had been ruined by me: my selfishness, my pride, my secrets, my actions, especially my inaction.

I dialed the phone, listening as it rang and froze when the gentle, sweet voice of a girl named Meg answered.

I started to tell her things I never told anyone before, and I knew what I said to her would never be revealed. She reassured me at the start of the call that everything I told to her was confidential. How had it come to this, calling a stranger to confide my secrets? Somehow I could do this, but I couldn't talk to Edward. I knew I wouldn't hurt her by getting this stuff off my chest, and it was the only option I felt I had anymore. So I told her about having sex for money and about realizing I was gay.

When I told Meg about getting hurt on Halloween, I admitted I now wished I had died that night. It would have saved so much heartache I caused later.

For some reason, I kept thinking back to that. I dreamed about it. I dreamed of waking up in a grave and feeling dirt fall onto my chest, and I wanted to be buried, buried alive. The feel of heavy earth crushing the air from my chest was welcomed, but I always cried out in my dream, and Edward always rescued me, jumping into the hole I had dug to pull me out. He was rescuing me all the time, and all I was doing was dragging him into the grave with me, burying us both. Yet he deserved to be alive. I didn't.

He was my life preserver, but I didn't deserve one because I wasn't able to get past myself, my own pride, to reach out to take what would've been willingly offered.

There was so much that happened that I thought I had taken in stride. Edward being hit by my father when I taunted him about how much I liked to suck cock. The fact that my love ended up protecting me from my own father ate away at me. Edward paying off his house; although he said it was to save himself some money, I knew it was to help me. Yet rather than feeling thankful, like I did those first weeks, the knowledge that he once again rescued me started to fester below the surface. Losing the ability to support myself. When I tried to find work from my modeling agency so I could continue to pay my rent and put money into our joint savings account, I found out that people were turning me down. I hadn't been on a "go see" for ages and I knew that no one would hire me after losing so much weight, scars or not. I was starting to look like a methamphetamine addict.

"I'm wondering something." Meg interrupted my story. "It sounded like you had actually been dealing with issues really well for a long time, even after your father attacked your boyfriend. What happened? What changed?" she asked, genuinely curious. Her voice soothed me for some reason, her southern accent sounding like home to me.

"I was doing well, except for the guilt I had because I was taking advantage of Edward again. Just because he has money doesn't mean I have a right to that or his father's either. They both freely give it, and I know Edward holds no bad feelings about it, but I felt like I needed to take care of myself. That was hammered into me by my father. 'No matter what you do, Jasper, pay your own way. That way you can have pride that you accomplished it yourself and you won't ever be indebted to anyone,'" I imitated my father's southern drawl and deep voice as I spoke his words. "So despite the fact that I hate credit, and I mean _detest_it, I got a low interest credit card to use for emergencies. I didn't plan on using it, and it sat in my wallet most of the time … until I got a call from my mother."

I opened my sketchbook and started to draw, mindlessly sketching, the scene I walked in on as I recalled what happened in January, nearly two months earlier.

I pulled up to my parent's modest home after her plea-filled call, shut off the engine, and closed the door as softly as possible, trying to maintain the quiet of the middle of the night. Stretching my muscles that were dormant for hours as I drove, I couldn't withhold the yawn that escaped me at that late hour. I reached for the polished brass door handle, turned it, and found it unlocked.

The house was ransacked and panic arose inside me. Had my mother been attacked?

"Mom, where are you? Mom!"

I heard a soft rustling noise coming from the bedroom and pushed the door open to see my mother lying under a thin sheet with bruises covering one side of her face.

"Oh my God, Mom. What happened?" I asked as I crossed the room in two steps and kneeled in front of her. She gave me an apprehensive smile and reached for my cheek with shaking fingers. "Who did this to you?" Pulling my phone out, I started to dial 911, but my mother stopped me by closing my phone.

"No, Jasper. We're not calling the police or an ambulance," she said in a weak, yet determined voice. When I took a breath to speak she said, "Nor are we going to the hospital. I called you because you're the only one I trust with this secret."

"But Rose," I protested, hoping I could have a partner in this.

"You know what will happen if Rosalie finds out. Not only will she have her teeth bared, she'll probably make things worse. I've never seen your father this out of sorts. I don't think even Rosalie can help this time. You mustn't tell her, Jasper. Can you keep this a secret?"

_Secrets. Secrets are just lies by omission._

"Was that the first time your father had hit your mother?" Meg asked bringing me back to the present.

I laughed at the complexity of my story that I slowly unraveled for this unsuspecting girl, a veritable tree with limbs and branches all interconnecting and seemingly wrapped in vines and moss. It was an utter fucking mess, and I had no idea how to prune the damn thing to keep it alive, but I guess that was the reason I had made that phone call in the first place.

"Let me boil it down, okay?" My tone started to get a bit harsh as I allowed my anger to rise. "My mother has now been abused several times because of me—because I slept in the same bed with Edward as a boy which my father walked in on and because I fuck him today. Well, actually, that isn't even true. I haven't fucked him since Valentine's Day when I made the biggest mistake of my life. But suffice it to say, my mother needed my help, and I gave it to her because my dad is such a fucking asshole. At least now I know she's safe because she kicked him out, but he totally cut her off financially, and she got fired from her job because she couldn't work after he broke her fucking ribs. So, I've been helping her, or trying to. Fuck!" I shouted as I kicked Edward's chair across the room.

"It sounds like we might be getting to heart of things, Jasper," Meg said in a calming tone.

"I feel like such an ingrate, like I'm acting like a petulant child. She's my mother and I'm so angry with her right now I could spit." Running my fingers through my hair, I dreaded going down this road because everything changed after she sought my help, but my problems weren't her fault. Yet, there I sat, stewing, so frustrated at the entire situation.

"Angry at your mother? Tell me about that."

"Well, I'm not angry at her for any of that. But after she lost her job, I tried to get her to move to Seattle so she could be close and I would know that Dad wouldn't just stop over in a rage and beat the shit out of her again. She refused to leave, and she wouldn't listen to anything I said. Fine! It's her life. But then she made me keep this a fucking secret from everyone. Everyone. Even my sister, who is the one person that could have gotten through to my dad so Mom would at least have money, but she only trusted me to know this. I'm not equipped to handle this shit, not financially or emotionally.

"Anyway, within days, Mom started calling me about money stuff. I told her to go to the bank, but she couldn't get a loan without a job. So I started paying her bills with my credit card which I had already fallen behind on. I had already stopped paying off my loan to Edward's father and then my medical bills started piling up. I was getting letters saying stuff was going to be sent to collections, and then collection agencies started calling my cell so I couldn't escape them. This entire time, I was working, going to school, and barely sleeping. I was working seventy hours a week on things that could eventually get me out of my financial hardship. I had a great internship with a mentor who basically guaranteed me a job after graduation, so I just had to get through four or five months of hell and then financially, I'd be set. That is, if I didn't fuck it up."

The words rushed out of my mouth and I felt my heart beating roughly in my chest. I was getting myself worked up just by talking about it.

"I knew one way to come up with fast cash. I'd done it before. I could do it again, even if I had promised Edward I wouldn't go back there. So I made a call to the porn site and talked about fucking for money again." I relayed the rest of the story in simple, flat terms, unwilling to allow a stranger into the fucked up way I treated Edward afterward.

Meg did her final assessment to make sure I wasn't going to kill myself, made an appointment for me to meet with a counselor at their free clinic, and tried to get the point across that I wasn't responsible for my parents' actions. I thanked her and hung up, feeling like a partial weight had been lifted by getting a few secrets off my chest, but I still felt the oppressive burden that this was all my fault.

I spent much of the remaining morning wrapped up in my thoughts, trying to beat the anger down. Every so often I was taken back to moments I wished I could change. As the visuals would flash behind my eyes, I'd hastily sketch them in my opened book. No one would ever see them, so it was quick and gritty, an exercise in purging my mind.

One sketch was a study of Edward's bicep. With the added stress of keeping my mother's secret and trying to bail her out, I had found myself getting preoccupied with my problems while making love to Edward. One night in bed, I started kissing the sensitive skin on his inner bicep, running my nose along the defined lines of muscle and licking down his armpit to his chest. Over and over, I completed my circuit, smelling him and tasting the saltiness of his skin. I hadn't realized how long I had been studying him while my mind was lost until I heard soft snores bring me out of my reverie. That was the only time I put him to sleep by getting lost in thought, but I continued to worship small parts of him: his hips, nipples, hands, the small of his back. It was oddly comforting, and I found when I thought about my problems while kissing Edward, they seemed less insurmountable. He had always been my stress reliever.

Yet, I couldn't share my feelings with him; at least not the bad ones. That had always been hard for me, and now I had to keep my mother's secret. I didn't trust myself enough to be able to keep her secrets if I shared my feelings or problems with Edward, afraid that everything would spill out because I wanted so badly to be rid of the burden. The anger I felt about that tore me up inside because if it weren't for me, there wouldn't be secrets. Yet there was one secret I wished I had kept from my father; that I was gay. If he didn't know that, he never would have laid his hands on my mother. I was like poison.

I found myself drawing a glass with an ice cube in it and a bottle of rum. My hand was ready for me to think about that awful night. I wasn't sure I was ready for it though, so I focused on the light and shadow that played off the glass and ice and concentrated on the feel of the paper fibers under my graphite lead. Since I was using cheap paper, it didn't give me the satisfaction that I craved. But I didn't deserve to feel satisfaction after doing what I had done.

"What would going back there hurt?" was what I kept asking myself the hours before I walked back onto the set of _Broke Straight Dudes_. I knew the answer. In fact, it kept eating at me, so I stopped by a dive bar on the way over to the nondescript apartment complex. Entering the nearly empty bar, I walked up to the bartender and ordered a few glasses of rum on the rocks, threw them down, and left.

By the time I signed all the release papers and was seated on the sheet-covered futon, I was starting to feel a slight buzz. I needed the buzz if I was going to be able to do this and get the money my mother needed to eat and pay for her house.

Like before, Jake sat off camera on a stool with a video camera on a tripod and another one in his lap. He was a tall guy, probably about six foot seven or so, with russet skin and jet-black hair that he wore in a thick ponytail that trailed down his back. If he wasn't such a sleazy fuck, I would have thought he was hot, but instead, everything he did and said to Felix and me while he directed us on camera made me want to punch the fucker out. Then he had asked me if I was still straight.

"None of your goddamned business, you fuck," is what I wanted to say.

I answered his questions, but with as few words as possible. He didn't deserve to know anything about the real me or the reasons I was there, but I didn't want to burn bridges in case I needed to come back and do this again. It was fast money. So, I gave him minimal information and was starting to feel relaxed enough to fuck this Felix dude and get back to my life when Jake told me I was going to bottom. That wasn't at all what we had talked about on the phone when I had called a few days prior. I was going to top because I didn't want anyone to fuck me but Edward. When I glared at Jake, he held up a one hundred dollar bill and gave me a dirty smile, taunting me, so I demanded more money. I should have walked away instead, but being the stupid fuck I was, I stayed.

That's when Jake asked if we would kiss, and as Felix leaned in, I sat there unmoving, stoic and unfeeling as his lips barely touched mine. "You can do better than that," Jake cajoled to me. Why? Because I was gay, it would be easier for me to kiss a strange man? Well it wasn't. I looked to the ceiling and silently apologized to Edward, telling him that this meant nothing and he was the only one who would ever have my heart. This was just me using my body to make money, like I had done countless times.

The coldness of the kiss cut though any dullness the alcohol provided, destroying the token protection I allowed myself. I felt disgusting as I opened my mouth to him, because I thought about Edward and how different this was from kissing him.

My memories dissolved for only a moment when a tortured cry left my throat and I felt a tear make it's journey down my cheek before landing "in" the glass I just finished drawing.

I hid away inside myself that day as Felix roughly pushed himself into me. It was obvious he didn't know what he was doing. He was overeager, going too fast, but I forced my body to relax. There was no pleasure, no erection, and I was glad because I didn't deserve to feel an ounce of enjoyment, nor did I want to. I only felt anguish over what I was doing to Edward. Betrayal wasn't a strong enough word. Treachery, duplicity, faithlessness. It was all those things and more.

Beyond all of that, I was being emotionally and spiritually disloyal, unable to confide in the one person from whom I should have no secrets. Prior to setting foot on that set, I was unwilling to share my burdens, attempting to protect my pride and my mother's secrets; now, I was _unable_ to talk to Edward about any of this because I turned my back on him and spit on everything he gave to me as his best friend, as his lover, as his partner.

Feeling Felix pull out of me, I rolled onto my back and watched him come on my stomach. My dick was soft and I had to work it, trying not only to get myself hard but also to come as quickly as I could so I could leave. Nothing I did seemed to work.

It was only when I turned my body away from the men in the room that I allowed myself to think of the most beautiful man I ever met. I thought of his green eyes, his lustrous skin, his raspberry stained lips, and then it happened. His name left my lips as I came, and I felt so ashamed for having to bring him to this sordid place with me so I could perform like a circus act. He deserved to be in box seating at the Met, not stepping on peanut shells and trying to avoid elephant shit just to find a chair.

I left the room even before Jake finished talking, running to the bathroom to throw up. As soon as I cleaned up, I demanded my payment and drove home, but I couldn't go in the house and face Edward after what I'd done. I left my truck in the garage and walked a mile or two to a hole in the wall bar and ordered more rum and drank in the dark recesses of the dingy room, throwing my peanut shells on the ground along with everyone else.

After my second drink, I realized it was late and decided to walk home, too poor to drink and unable to drown my sorrows in the alcohol anyway.

The cool air cut through the liquor slightly as did the exercise, but the moment I walked through the front door and saw the red and creme tulips on the dining room table, I knew I fucked up even worse. I flipped open my phone and looked at the date. February fourteenth. "Oh fuck!" When I went to the kitchen, I reluctantly opened the fridge and saw Edward had cooked my favorite, homemade portabella mushroom ravioli in a smoked cheese sauce. It was still plated and covered with plastic wrap. Pulling the plate out to look at it, I shook my head as I smelled the sauce. My mouth watered.

I had fucked up his dinner, our first Valentine's Day, the least I could do was try to apologize, but it came out lame, pathetic as I told him I was busy. Fucking ridiculous.

His face was so open and honest. He was willing to share every part of himself with me, and I missed him so much. I couldn't stop the tears from falling as I admitted this and reached for him, intending to kiss him tenderly. But I was so desperate to be close to him at that moment that my kisses turned ravenous as did everything else in my body. I bit him and rolled him over and made him tell me he liked it when I fucked him hard. Amazingly, all of my mind wasn't gone at that point because I double sheathed my cock, unwilling to let any contamination of the day touch him. He came quickly and I lost myself in the moment, fucking him hard, fucking Felix out of my head, fucking my secrets into the dark. When I came, I realized that moment wasn't about Edward and me, shamefully it was only about me.

I walked to the bathroom and turned on the sink before pulling off both condoms, throwing them in the trash, and washing my hands. The man that looked back at me was frenzied, and I was disconnected from him. When I climbed into the shower, I quickly washed my hair and was just reaching for the soap when Edward walked in. That was when I saw what I had done to his chest. Angry red teeth marks trailed up and down his pale skin, and when he moved to clean himself up, he winced in pain, his brows bunching together as he took a quick breath between clenched teeth.

The rough scrubbing I was already doing to try to cleanse myself of what I had become only increased when I saw what I did to Edward. Turning the hot water up, the bathroom filled with billowy steam, and I attempted to scour my filth away and burn away what my washcloth didn't reach. When I dried off, the loopy towel tore at my raw skin. I relished the physical pain I felt that finally started to mirror a portion of the pain I had inside.

I couldn't be allowed to do this anymore, to hurt the kindest man I had ever met. I needed to leave, so I dressed and didn't answer him when he asked where I was going, afraid that if I spoke, my words would come tumbling out and I would confess all my sins, only hurting him more. Instead, I walked out the door of his house and made my way into the chilled air. I walked until I came to Volunteer Park and sat thinking outside the conservatory, ignoring the calls and texts that Edward left for me. I didn't deserve to hear his velvety voice or read his poetic words. I was nothing more than a whore that fucked for money.

As I had stared up at the sliver of moon that was shrouded in a blanket of clouds, I started to doze. I woke up to the shrill sound of my phone's ring cutting through the cold night air. When I looked down, I saw that it was two in the morning and Carlisle was calling me.

"Hello?" I had answered in a rush. Edward's father told me that Edward had had a panic attack and ended up needing stitches because of a cut. "I'll be right there," I nearly hollered into the phone and started to sprint home, jogging on occasion, and finally was forced to stop at the end of our block because of the stitch in my side and my gasping breaths. To have to stop so close was awful, but I could barely breathe. As soon as I could, I made my way into the house to see him. There was nothing I could do but hold him and cry.

"Never again," were the words I kept repeating in my head after I had lavished his body with tender attention, trying to make up for my transgressions.

Never again would I hurt him.

Never again would I betray him.

Never again would I use my body for money.

I would no longer allow myself to make love to Edward, because I knew there was a chance that I might lose control again. Finding pleasure in his touch was something I needed to avoid. I didn't deserve his tender touches, his loving embraces, or even his soulful gazes.

So I withdrew from him, finding excuses to be absent from the house and staying up later than he did so the likelihood of being intimate wouldn't present itself. It didn't take much because I was swamped with my internship, school, and preparations for our art show. Many nights I chose to sleep in the studio, especially those nights that I craved his touch. The good thing about that was knowing I wouldn't wake Edward up with one of my dreams.

Occasionally, my control would crumble and I would try to distract myself until he was asleep. It was only then that I could allow myself to slide into bed behind him and pull his warm body into my chest, wrapping my legs around his, because I knew that it couldn't turn into sex if he slept. I would allow myself the luxury of taking in his scent and feeling his soft skin below my lips for a few stolen moments before I drifted off. I couldn't resist him. Feeling guilty the next day, I would vow to never again feel that contentment, but I always went back.

When I found out about Jessica's trial, I was oddly calm. You'd think it would have added to my stress, but it was one of the only things in my life at the time that I felt I could completely give over to the prosecution. Even if I needed to testify, I would have been okay with that. What I wasn't calm about was Edward having to relive the horror of that night, and as I sat on the hard wooden bench in the courtroom and saw him breakdown on the stand, I couldn't help but feel ashamed for all I had put him through.

While we waited for the trial to finally be over, I made the decision to break up with Edward, to give him the opportunity to find someone who could treat him as he deserved to be treated, not be hurt, ignored, cheated on, lied to, and any number of other things I had done. It was no longer about me.

The night before the verdict was read I tried to end it with Edward. We lay on his bed and as I studied his face, I tried to find the words while I memorized his features. When he reached to push one of my fallen curls back off my forehead, his skin touched mine and I felt the energy that always seemed to flow between us. It soothed me like nothing else could. I didn't deserve to feel that. Each time he moved to speak I stopped him, trying to work up the nerve as I gazed into his emerald eyes. He spoke again and I touched my finger to his full, lush lips, feeling the pillowy softness and the inviting moisture. It worked. His silky voice no longer sang in my ears and I closed my lids to shut out the beauty of his eyes, willing myself to find a way to convey my need to protect him from me.

But I fell asleep.

I tried several times after that to end it, to pull away for good, but with no success. Sometimes, I ended up kissing him or caressing his back, drawn to his physical touch, only to mentally flagellate myself later.

Then he melted into me in the kitchen after he wrote the word "apples" on the grocery list and laughed. My arms responded before I realized what I was doing: to feel his body pressed against my chest, my legs, and even my groin; to wrap my forearms around his narrow waist and pull him closer; to smell his skin again and drink him in. It was heavenly.

But I deserved to be in hell; so I left for the day.

I looked back down at my sketchbook and saw that I was drawing an apple and I shook my head violently, trying to shake the blissful memories away. I wasn't even worthy of those. My pencil started to move over the flawless fruit I had drawn, scribbling over the skin and stem. Ripping my drawer open, I found my box of charcoals and began covering the apple that brought back so many visions I needed to forget. Thick strokes covered the cheap white paper, a maelstrom of black, and I ripped it from the sketchbook and threw it on the desk before stowing the book back in the drawer.

Drawing wasn't helping.

How could I have so easily given my soul away … for money, for pride, for secrets? And why couldn't I walk away from Edward … if for no other reason than to protect him?

Yet, I seemed to be tethered to him by some invisible bond that I couldn't grab ahold to cut, and as I lay at the bottom of the grave I had dug for myself, he was bound to be buried alive with me.

I loved Edward more than anyone, so why couldn't I let him go?

Even the thought of being without him made my heart feel like it was cracking into a million pieces, shattering from within, but the only evidence of my anguish was the tears streaming down my face and the strangled sounds leaving my throat.

I finally allowed myself to let go. Meg told me it was healthy to cry and that holding all my pain in would only make it last longer, so I finally opened the floodgates. Anger and hate rushed past, fear and trepidation, terror and loss.

I'm not sure if it was ten minutes or an hour later, but I heard the door handle of the studio rattle as I grabbed for the tissues and tried to wipe my eyes that I was sure were red and swollen. Edward walked in with a tray of food, as he had been doing for weeks, trying to make sure I was eating. I just couldn't.

The next few minutes were a blur; they happened so fast in my emotion-addled brain. He tried to tease me about losing weight, and the anger I was feeling toward my mother was transferred onto him because he was trying to take care of me, something my own mother rarely did, especially now. I was the one who was paying for her and that thought sickened me. How could I think such things of my mother, who was doing her best and thankfully had gotten away from my fuck of a father?

He pleaded with me to share my fears and worries, but I had to carry the weight alone. I wasn't going to burden him with my problems because he already helped with so much. Beyond that, I didn't need to drag him away from his golden existence and into the squalor in which I had chosen to live.

The moment his hand touched my hip, I tensed, but then his electric pulse flowed through me and relaxed my entire body. When I felt his nose run along the back of my neck I wanted so badly to fall into him and let him catch me, but I shook off those thoughts and tried to pull away. He wouldn't let me.

I was starting to feel trapped, facing the corner of the room next to his desk, unable to get away, and then he talked about how my behavior was affecting him. He was drowning. The visual that came to my mind set something off in me because I always knew I'd be his downfall. I turned to face him admitting aloud that I was drowning.

"Fucking tell me what's happening. Stop shutting me out. I could do this as your friend, Jas. But I told you before, I can't do this as your lover," he pleaded with me. I had to turn away from his soulful eyes, away from his penetrating stare that seemed to see right inside my broken heart.

My arm. He touched my bicep so tenderly as thick tears started to roll down my cheeks. When I felt the power his skin had over my entire being, I told him to not touch me, but he persisted, tightening his grip, breaking down my walls I had so carefully built. I couldn't allow that to happen, to have my shit spill out and sully his shoes and his life, so I pushed him away, telling him, "I ruin everything I touch, and you're too good to be spoiled. Get away from me."

He stood there looking at me as if I'd spoken Russian. "I am not leaving you, Jasper. Not until you tell me … give me a reason to leave, and even then, I doubt I'll leave you."

His words traveled into my brain: _Give me a reason to leave, and even then, I doubt I'll leave you._ A switch flipped in my head, turning me into the one man I never wanted to emulate, my father. I hit him. He shoved me. I was lost in the movements of my body that seemed to be instinctual because I never before fought with anyone like that. Words spat out of my mouth: ingrate, worthless, fraud. My self-loathing fell into the air and hovered around the room, providing an infinitesimal sense of relief as I finally admitted how much I detested who I'd become. Only when Edward held up his hands and refused to turn his back on me as he left the studio, did I realize that he thought I felt those things about him.

"No, no, no. NO, NO, NO! Fuck!" I yelled to myself, to Edward, to anyone that would listen as I made my way around the garage, but I was too late. He was already driving down the street. Still, I ran after him, my bare feet pounding on the cold asphalt as I hollered his name, trying to will him back.

"Edward! Come back to me."

#

Loud knocking at the front door brought me out of my trance. I was sitting on the couch, staring at the fireplace grate for … hours? Tentatively opening the door, I looked to my dirty feet as soon as I saw that it was Carlisle but invited him in with humble words.

"I understand you and Edward got into a little tussle today, is that right?" His voice was too caring. He should have been yelling at me for what I did to Edward.

"Yes, sir," I answered, easily slipping back into my role as a child waiting for my punishment, but his arm wrapped around my shoulder as he led me into the living room, ready to have a talk with me. Each of us took a seat and rather than going into detail about how I injured his son, he started asking if I was unharmed. I chose not to tell him about the foot long bruise that I was sporting on my back from where I was shoved into the desk. It would heal and the purple mark stopped swelling once I put ice on it and took ibuprofen. The rest of my body was sore, but what did I expect? I blew off any sort of discomfort I had and said I was fine. When he studied my knuckles on my right hand, he told me to put ice on them.

As soon as his physical assessment of me was complete, he asked, "Is there anything you'd like to talk about, Jasper? I'm always here for you; you know that, right?" It was then that I broke down, utterly sickened by the comprehension that I could have talked to Carlisle or Edward at any time. No one had ever been as accepting of me as Carlisle and Esme, who felt like parents to me, and the fact that he was there at that moment spoke volumes to me. I made my situation so much worse than it ever needed to be, but then I made it worse still by assaulting the one person I loved most.

"I need to see him. I just have to talk to him and tell him how sorry I am and what a fuck I've been," I prattled on, not sure what was coming out of my mouth.

"Jasper … Jasper … Jasper," he raised his voice over mine, finally catching my attention the third time he said my name. "Jasper, Edward needs some time to think about some things, and in all honesty, I think you do too. I don't know what's gone on here, son, but you've never resorted to violence before. You and Edward need some space. Now, tell me, are you going to be okay here by yourself or should I call Rosalie? I'm sure she'd come and stay here for a night or two."

I shook my head, feeling the skin between my eyebrows and on my forehead pull together. Most likely I looked angry, but I was simply revolted by what I'd done. "Honestly Carlisle, I think I need to be alone right now."

"Are you sure?" I nodded in response. "Okay," he said as he stood to leave. "You call me if you need anything. _Anything_ Jasper." He left me in the living room and let himself out.

I made my way back to the studio, the scene of my crime, and I saw that several of Edward's tools and pencils had been broken. Gathering things together, I started to write out a list of what I would need to replace. The rest of the day I wandered around the house aimless, picking up anything that was out of place, trying to put some order back into my world.

I walked to the garage and stopped when I saw my motorcycle. Running my hand along her gleaming curves, I stopped a moment to buff my fingerprints away and looked at myself in the shiny metal. While I had been so busy trying to find ways to make money to pay the bills, I hadn't given much thought to selling my bike or my truck because they were my transportation. Yet my bank account was slowly being drained each month by my loan payment on the motorcycle. She was a thing of beauty, but there were so few days that I could ride her in Washington. In actuality, she was simply a pile of steel and chrome that I didn't need, while Edward was someone I couldn't live without. I decided to sell her and quickly made posters on the computer in hopes of posting them around town. Perhaps I could dig myself out of this hole.

The next morning, I made a quick stop over to my favorite art supply store to replace anything broken or damaged of Edward's. I brought in a small selection of my art to see if I'd be able to trade my work for goods. Having known the storeowner for years, she knew Edward and I were good customers, and we had a good relationship with her. I had to try. In the end, she traded two of my pieces for the two hundred dollars worth of supplies I needed. As she slipped everything into a transparent bag for me, she talked to me about our art show and encouraged me to bring in posters to put in the window. When I asked her if I could park my bike in her parking lot with a For Sale sign on it, she was more than pleased, hoping the beautiful bike might bring in a few customers.

Walking home, I realized what I needed to do. As hard as it would be, I could no longer live the way I had been for the last two months. Keeping all those secrets was slowly killing me, eating me alive. Perhaps even literally, considering how much weight I had lost. I had to be honest with Edward about everything, even if that meant telling my mother's secrets. The only way out of this hell was to ask for help, so I vowed to call my mother and tell her what I needed to do. I would no longer risk my relationship with Edward for secrets. Not her secrets, not mine … no one's.

When I arrived back home, I grabbed the mail and found a letter addressed to me from the clinic. I opened it to find that I had tested negative on all sexually transmitted diseases, but those test results weren't even worth the paper they were printed on anymore. Even if Edward and I worked out our problems, we'd now have to wait another year to be together without protection. I wouldn't risk his life for that.

On my way out to the studio my cell phone rang. "Hello."

"Jasper, this is Elizabeth. Elizabeth Masen."

"Oh, hi. I didn't expect to hear from you."

"No, I suppose not before graduation. I was wondering if you'd be able to do a small freelance job for us over your spring break, or do you have some raucous plans?"

I laughed as I opened the studio door and said, "No. No plans, and I've had enough raucous for awhile. What do you need?"

"Could you come down to the office this afternoon … soon?"

I looked down over my very casual attire as I threw the new art supplies on my desk and headed back into the house. "Sure. I can be there in about thirty minutes. Give me a few to change into something more appropriate for work and I'll be there."

"Great. See you in a few, Jasper."

When I arrived twenty minutes later in my charcoal suit with a white shirt and matching salmon tie and pocket square, Elizabeth greeted me more as a colleague and less as a student intern. She got straight to the point, telling me what she needed and asked if I thought I would be able to help her and her client out of their pinch. Even before money was discussed, I agreed, but then she said that she'd be paying me fifteen hundred dollars if I could complete my work in two days. I quickly agreed and was ready for the challenge.

My time was spent in the studio, working on the design for Elizabeth. I had a very clear picture of how I wanted to proceed while still in her office, so the work went quickly. Finally, it felt as if something was going my way, and I had hope that Edward and I would be able to work things out as well. I was thankful for the diversion of work to keep me from feeling anxious and wondered if Edward had anything to sidetrack him. Apparently, he had come home at some point and retrieved some art supplies and his computer, but I doubted that he had anything quite as distracting as I had.

Just when I was done with my design, I pulled my shit book, as I now called my student sketchbook, out of the drawer, and paged through some of the sketches, anxious for the day it could be burned. But there were a few drawings that I wanted to keep, perhaps re-sketch or even recreate in another medium. When I found the typographical study related to my scars and Edward's kisses, I stopped. I didn't know what had encouraged me to draw that in the first place, but it was one of the few things in the sketchbook I wanted to keep. Those kisses across my back each night for months had been such a gift from him, and while I cherished those moments, I never told him how much it meant. I yearned for his tender lips to heal my wounds again, but more than anything, I wanted to use my kisses to heal all the damage I had created, if his wounds could still be healed.

The calendar alarm on my phone pulled me from my thoughts, reminding me I needed to be at Masen Design within thirty minutes to submit my work to Elizabeth. I gathered my work together, looking over my desk to make sure I had everything I needed when I realized my shit book was still sitting out. With everything I was trying to balance and carry, I decided to close the book and simply set it on the right hand side of my desk, next to my labyrinth journal.

When I arrived at Masen Design, I carried my work into Elizabeth's office in my large portfolio. She was very pleased with my work and that I was able to meet her tight deadline. As I was leaving the building I received a text from Edward.

_When are you going to be home?_

I responded, telling him I was going to be out running errands. Slipping my suit jacket off my shoulders, I carefully laid it over the back of the seat and sat down, waiting for his reply. To keep myself from staring at the phone, I started the engine, removed my tie, and unbuttoned the first two buttons on my shirt. No response.

Setting my phone on the seat next to me, I made my way from place to place, checking the phone each time I parked the truck. After nearly two hours of not hearing back from him, I was quite anxious. When I called him, it went straight to voicemail. I called our home phone, but the machine picked up. Some niggling sense told me to go home, so I finished the last errand and started for home, hoping he'd be there so I could finally confess.

* * *

**Edit: 3/5/2012**


	25. Chiaroscuro

**Chiaroscuro**

**chiaroscuro** |kēˌärəˈsk(y)oŏrō; kēˌarə-| noun  
1. the treatment of light and shade in drawing and paintingan effect of contrasted light and shadow created by light falling unevenly or from  
2. a particular direction on something : the chiaroscuro of cobbled streets.  
ORIGIN: mid 17th cent.: from Italian, from chiaro 'clear, bright' (from Latin clarus) + oscuro 'dark, obscure' (from Latin obscurus).

* * *

It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light.

~ Aristotle Onassis

* * *

When the garage door lifted, I saw Edward wasn't home, his car gone still, but rather than allow myself to feel the disappointment hidden just beneath the surface, I pulled all my bags together and made my way into the house. Once I reached the kitchen counter, I set down all the goods I had purchased and started to put things in the cupboards and fridge, occasionally running to the bathroom to deliver razor blades or soap that I had picked up. I was willing to do anything to distract myself from the overwhelming desire to talk to him at that moment. I made a pile of items to take to the studio: fabric, wood, pen nubs, paper.

Despite the fact that I knew Edward wasn't home, I found myself looking for him when I arrived in each room, peering around corners in hopes that I'd see his messy bronze hair. I was disappointed each and every time his lithe body wasn't reclined on the furniture or his emerald eyes didn't peer up at me through long, dark lashes.

For as much running away as I had done in the prior weeks, I wanted so badly to see him, to reach for him, to hold him close to me, and to attempt to apologize for all I had done and not done. From early on in our friendship, we had held onto each other. Whether it was hands grazing heated skin or fingers tangling through hair, our bodies had naturally come together as if they fit. It was Edward that had first reached out to me as a teenager, but it made sense in his family as I watched how much a part of his life touch was. It was as essential as breathing around his house, so I easily fell into that pattern and was relieved when I was finally able to touch him even more intimately after confessing I was attracted to him.

To not have that sensation for weeks made me feel as if part of me was broken or damaged, perhaps even amputated.

The one thing Edward had always needed from me had been touch and it was the one thing I had denied him by trying to protect him and deny myself pleasure. I wondered if he felt the loss as significantly as I did.

At that moment, there was nothing I yearned for more than to wrap my arms tightly around his waist and bury my nose in his neck to take in the concentrated scent of Edward. But rather than dwell on what I couldn't have, I folded my reusable bags and dropped them back in my truck before I carried my load of supplies out to the studio. Feeling creatively drained after months of non-stop work, I set my purchases on my desk, only putting a few things away. I needed a break from working and decided to use the rest of my spring break as an actual break. It was about time that I spent some hours away from that space, so I locked it and headed back into the house not intending to return until inspiration struck.

While I was waiting for my grilled cheese to brown on the second side, I noticed a note by the phone. It was the name of one of the creditors and a phone number. I guess they had finally hunted down our landline. So, Edward had been home, but I wasn't nearly as nervous about that as I would have been a day ago knowing I was going to finally come clean to him.

Only the day before, I had gone to the counseling appointment that Meg had set up for me on the phone the day I had lost control. As nervous as I was about therapy, I walked in and talked to an impartial person and found it helpful, much as I did when I spoke with Meg. With no feelings to hurt, I was able to admit my anger and sadness about how things had been handled. As I spoke to the psychologist, Dr. Victor, he listened to how I had fucked up my relationship with Edward and also asked about my relationship with my parents. Even though it was only an hour-long session, I realized that secrets were the basis of so many of my problems. Rather than being honest and sharing my feelings and worries with Edward, I had done what my parents had taught me to do—keep fears buried and "weaknesses" hidden. However, my weakness was the fact that I hid and pulled away during the times I should have been reaching out and asking for help. I would certainly continue to see Dr. Victor.

As I ate, I tried to think about what I had discovered in therapy and how I was going to tell Edward everything, but rather than allow myself to get worked up over the unknown possibilities of the conversation, I grabbed one of Edward's most recent news magazines and started to page through it. Distraction seemed to be the only thing keeping me from calling and sending numerous text messages, so I focused my attention on the photography and typography used in the story layouts and advertising to see if I could learn anything new.

When Edward still wasn't home at seven, I unsuccessfully tried to call him one more time before hopping in my truck and driving over to Carlisle and Esme's house. When I got there, Edward's car was parked in the driveway behind his mother's blue Mini Cooper. I saw that his father's Mercedes was gone, and I parked in an out of the way spot so that when Carlisle returned he'd be able to pull into his open space in the garage.

I had stopped at a florist on the way over and picked up a dozen creme tulips, deciding against red tulips because I knew that my love had been anything but perfect lately, but that I'd love him no matter what. Reaching for the red tissue paper wrapped bundle, I jumped out of the truck and made my way up the stone stairs to the door.

Standing there for several minutes trying to calm my nerves, I took deep breaths and tried to shake my nervous energy out through the fingertips of my right hand. Finally, I rang the doorbell, and as I heard footsteps beyond the maple door, I nervously cleared my throat trying to steel myself for what I was about to do.

"What do you want, Jasper?" Edward's voice rang through the wood, though he made no attempt to open it.

"I need to talk to you about something, baby," I said, my voice wavering with tension as I spoke.

"You don't get to call me 'baby', anymore, Jasper." His voice was cold, unfeeling, and as he spoke, I saw his silhouette in the side light of the door, his hands running through his messy hair.

"Edward, I have to tell you so many things. I've been a complete ass, and I need to talk to you."

The things I had to say shouldn't be delivered with a door between us. He deserved so much more than that, and I didn't know what else to say to him without eye contact. So, I remained silent, giving him a few moments to collect himself, which he was obviously doing by the movements I saw behind the stained glass. When I heard the sound of metal sliding across metal, I repositioned myself in front of the door so he could see me when he opened it a crack.

The moment I saw his face, it seemed blank but angry at the same time, if that was possible. Even in anger, he took my breath away and I could feel what his proximity did to me. His stoic beauty softened my face as all tension dropped away, like raindrops falling off water-laden leaves after a downpour. I humbly greeted him while lifting the bouquet of tulips to offer them to him. I smiled, but he looked past the symbol of my everlasting love and stared intensely in my eyes.

Without any passion he simply stated, "You need to be moved out of my house by tomorrow afternoon." Before I even registered his words, the heavy door was shut in my face and locked.

"Edward. Edward! Please. Please, let me talk to you!" I pleaded with him. When he didn't answer, I pounded on the door, begging him to come back to me. After several minutes, I realized he wasn't going to open the door, but I couldn't make myself walk away just yet. I had to try more, work harder to win a few moments of his time even if it was only to apologize. More pounding and a voice that quickly went hoarse, but no response. Did I even deserve a moment of his time?

Turning around, I rested my back on the smooth door and slid down, sitting on the cold stone. I started to talk. I knew he wasn't listening, but the words wouldn't stop as I admitted to everything I had done wrong: every mistake, whether it was mindful or not. If by any chance he was on the other side of that door, I wanted him to know all of my transgressions. It was no longer a time to hold anything back.

As the words spilled forth, landing on the smooth sandstone and bouncing around the quarried walls of the small, covered porch, tears escaped the confines of my lashes, blurring my vision. Once my words were spent, I sat there, legs outstretched in front of me, staring at the trees beyond the garage.

I lost everything. Everything.

Taking in a shaky breath, I felt my eyes close and I held Edward's tulips close to my chest, trying to keep them warm in the cool, March air. Soon, I felt myself drifting. Falling.

_Lying back in the grave and crossing my arms over my chest, I saw a pale fist throw in the first handful of dirt. When it landed on my chest, I sighed in relief. Soon the shovels came out and I watched as the soil fell apart into finer particles as it was thrown into the hole, allowing light to peek through. The weight of the earth on my chest became heavier, but I didn't call out. I remained silent as my eyes and mouth were covered and filled. It wasn't long and I was gone. Finally at peace. Alone. I was finally able to spare him._

"Jasper. Jasper, honey. Wake up. You must be freezing." It was Esme's gentle voice and her delicate touch that roused me from my slumber on the quarried stone. I had somehow curled up in front of the door, cradling the tulips I had brought for Edward. With a quick intake of breath, I sat up and saw Carlisle and Esme watching me try to orient myself.

"Oh. Sorry," I said, trying to stand, but my legs had fallen asleep and wouldn't hold my weight so I slid back down the door. "I was trying to talk to Edward, but … I get why he won't talk to me." Looking to my lap, I fingered the velvety petals and marveled at their strength despite how fragile they appeared. "Esme, could you please give these to him?" I asked, handing her the tulips, knowing Edward wouldn't accept them. I had to try. Perhaps he'd see the vigor in the leaves and petals and realize that we could come back from the drought and flash flood I had created. Maybe I'd scorched the earth beyond recognition and it was now barren, unable to sustain life.

"Sure. I'll get these in some water," she said as she turned around and gave Carlisle a very meaningful look and headed into the house.

He stood there with his hands in the pockets of his two thousand dollar Armani suit, looking down at me as I continued to sit on the ground, and lean against the wood. When he turned and slid down the door to sit next to me on the stone, I pulled my knees to my chest and picked at the threadbare knee of my too-big jeans, embarrassed by his generous gesture of joining me in the dirt.

There was silence between us for many minutes … perhaps ten, before I finally spoke.

"I'm sorry I haven't paid you, Carlisle. I should have spoken to you about it. It was wrong of me to not do that. Money has been very tight without work and then it got even tighter." I took a deep breath, knowing I was about to betray a trust, but it was time I did so. "My mother kicked my father out. He's been abusing her for several months and she asked for my help. I've been giving her everything I can spare. She asked me to keep it a secret, but I just can't do that anymore. It's been eating me alive."

Carlisle reached out to me, sliding his arm around my shoulder and pulling me close to him.

"I suspected that your father abused your mother years ago. Whenever she would come and see me, I tried to get her to confide in me, but she never would. Things seemed so much better lately, so I thought he had worked through his issues but apparently not," he breathed a heavy sigh.

"Well, it's my fault. If I hadn't come out, he never would have hurt her again," I admitted.

Carlisle leaned back and looked at me, his forehead wrinkling. "Jasper, this has nothing to do with you coming out. Your father thinks he can bully people with his brawn. This is abuse, plain and simple. He thinks he can use his fists and his ugly words to control people. It's all about power, Jasper," he said, rubbing his fingers over his brow several times. "Is she safe?" I nodded and explained how she had kicked him out, going into some detail about the night I found her and her injuries. "But she's obviously having some financial issues if she came to you, right?"

"Yes, because she lost her job and can't get a loan."

"Have you talked to Rosalie or Edward about this?"

Covering my eyes, perhaps tying to avoid my reality, I choked out, "I haven't told anyone but you, a girl on the suicide hotline, a psychologist, and this door." I pointed my thumb at the door behind my left shoulder and chucked wryly. He grinned at me, seemingly to ease my nerves as I spoke, but his expression looked so much like Edward's smile, the one I hadn't seen in weeks, that I couldn't help the tears that filled my eyes again.

"I've lost Edward. He's asked me to move out and for good reason. I fucked up again and again. He should have kicked me out long ago." I shook my head at the memories, trying to erase them, but they wouldn't disappear. "The thing that probably hurt him the most was that I pulled away from him. I know how much Edward needs physical touch, but I totally deprived him of the simplest contact because I was afraid I would hurt him … again." While admitting more than I ever expected, my focus seemed to sharpen, pulling things together that had been disparate only moments before. "I was so wrapped in my own problems one night that I … I …"

Stopping, not knowing how to continue, I dropped my head between my knees and laced my fingers behind my neck as I searched for the words or a way to talk to him about this. When I felt his fingers between my shoulder blades, I relaxed and lifted my head to look into his empathetic eyes.

"I got buried in my problems and hurt Edward." Looking away, I quietly admitted, "I was too rough with him and wasn't being attentive to his needs at all. Then, rather than sticking around to make sure he was okay, I ran away like an ass and a coward. After that, I wouldn't allow myself to be intimate with him. Hurting him again wasn't an option. While I tried pulling away to protect him, I only deprived him of something that is essential to him, and the other day, I ended up treating him just like my father has treated my mother. The only touch I've given him in weeks happened to be with my fists." I stopped, hoping he'd say something to break the deafening silence, but it continued.

Finally I found my voice, asking him the one thing I could. "I know after what I've done to you and your son I don't deserve anything, certainly not your trust. But please, Carlisle, please help my mother. She needs so much more than I can give her." He nodded and said he'd do his best before I thanked him and moved to stand. "I have to move out. Edward said he wanted me out by tomorrow so I'd better get moving."

"Where will you go?"

"I don't know yet. Rosalie's. Emmett's. Maybe Alice and Bella's. Somewhere. I'll figure it out." Pulling my phone from my jacket, I hit the touch screen to check the time. "I've hurt Edward so badly, but I'll do my best to be a friend to him if he'll let me. Before anything, he was my best friend." _But he's so much more. I love him._ "I should go. I have a lot to pack." With a deep sigh, I started toward my truck, fishing the keys from my pocket.

"Jasper." His voice was hushed so I turned to face him, seeing him walking down the steps toward me and feeling him pull me into his arms. "Thank you for trusting me enough to share that with me. I know that wasn't easy for you at all." Stepping back, he patted me on the shoulder, giving it a mild squeeze before saying, "I'm always just a phone call away." Looking deep in my eyes, he said, "I love you as if you were my own son, Jasper. You know that right?"

All I could do was nod as my lips pressed together and I turned toward my truck. When I reached for the handle, a tear quickly dropped onto my hand. The closeness I felt toward Carlisle at that moment overshadowed anything I had ever experienced with my own father or mother. I wanted to run back to him, just so I could feel his protective arms once again, but I started the engine and drove home in silence.

#

Ten minutes later, I arrived home and retrieved my suitcases from the hall closet, laying them open on the bed. Starting in my … _the_ bedside table, I packed my books and lip balm, ignoring the condoms and lube. At the dresser drawers, I unloaded my shirts, sweaters, pants, socks, and all the new underwear Edward had bought me when he realized I had a thing for underwear. With one suitcase full, I zipped it and moved to the closet. After packing my hanging clothes, I only had half of my stuff packed. I quickly realized that everything couldn't fit in the few pieces of luggage that I owned. I'd have to get boxes in the morning.

Edward didn't need to see my belongings in case he came home, so I took what wouldn't fit and hung the items in the empty closet of my old bedroom. I packed my shoes in a duffle bag and rolled my ties up and placed them inside the heel of the shoes to protect them. In the bathroom, I tried to fit all my toiletries in a bag, but had to leave my shampoo and conditioner, not having the room. I'd either buy new or get the bottles later. Finally, I took a bag to the studio and packed my essential art supplies. Everything else was hauled into my old room and stacked in the closet. My sketchbooks were piled in the far corner, one on top of the other. The only sketchbooks I brought with me were my shit book and the labyrinth sketchbook Edward had made for me.

"Rosalie? Hi." I called her as I walked through the house, trying to remove traces of me I knew Edward would no longer want to see. My half of the studio was naked. Any art pieces I had created had been taken down and stored next to my sketchbooks. Textbooks I no longer used were under the guest bed along with several portfolios, all hidden away by the bed skirt. In an even tone, I continued, "Sis, there are some things we really need to talk about. Most I need to talk to you about in person, but first … well, I'm moving out of Edward's tonight."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"He asked me to move out, so I am. Would you mind if I crashed at your place for a few nights until I find a place?" I asked, my voice calm as I swallowed my pride and asked for help for the second time that night.

"Sure, Jasper. I'll be home in about an hour. Hang on." Hearing her muffled voice talking, I waited patiently, scanning the kitchen. "Emmett will be here too. Are you bringing your stuff? Are you moving out, moving out?"

"Yes. I'm really moving out. I'll be bringing some of my stuff tonight. Tomorrow, I'll be getting boxes because it's getting too late to find any. I'm hoping I can make it back before he gets home from his parents' tomorrow and finish packing." Swallowing a lump in my throat, I croaked out, "I'll see you in about an hour. Thanks."

With all my bags by the front door, I started making several trips to my truck, loading the bed with some of my clothes, shoes, and toiletries. I threw my messenger bag that held my essential art supplies in the front. Looking to the sky, I could see it was about to rain, so I found a tarp and covered my suitcases, doing my best to make it water tight.

I continued through the house, removing small parts of myself from each room that I had missed: a magnet Edward had brought back for me from New York City, my Murano glass and stone sculpture, the green jar I used to hold my spare change, and my favorite Jadite mixing bowl that I had purchased at an antique fair when we first moved in together as freshman. Everything I couldn't fit in my luggage was placed in my old room, and nearly sixty minutes after I had spoken to my sister, I was done.

Closing the closet doors on my most important worldly possessions, I walked to the front door and faced the entryway, silently saying good-bye to the only place that had ever felt like home to me. Sliding my key from my key ring, I set it on the front table next to the note I had written to Edward.

My eyes slid shut as I withdrew my hand, my heart ultimately feeling the finality of leaving my key there.

After one last deep breath, taking in the scent of all I had let slip through my fingers, I turned and walked out the door, using the hidden key on the porch to lock up behind me.

Rain falling in sheets, poured over my head the moment I stepped off the protective porch of Edward's house, drenching me in cold and stealing away the last smells of my home that lingered in my nose. Water puddled on top of the tarp that covered my suitcases, but I no longer had the energy to care about things as unimportant as clothes and shoes. They were all replaceable.

I mindlessly drove to Rosalie's apartment and numbly carried two large suitcases to her door; it opened before I could knock. She wrapped me in her arms and pulled me to her couch as Emmett brought everything in from my truck against my protests. I didn't allow myself to cry as I talked, telling my story in detail. The entire time I spoke, I soothed myself by tracing the tooled leather on my cuff, following the intricate designs that wrapped around my left wrist.

Nothing was held back from my sister. I wouldn't have been able to if I had tried at that point. The news about Mom wasn't accompanied by nearly as much surprise as I had expected. Apparently, she had seen the results of my father's misplaced power years ago, but Mom had thought she had been able to keep her in the dark.

"Secrets are the problem with our family, Jasper. I'm not sure why things are so hush-hush, but it's damaging and it fucks up a lot."

When I told her everything I had done to Edward, from going to _Broke Straight Dudes_, to the Valentine's Day incident, to withdrawing, and finally to our fight, she listened patiently. Then she smacked the coffee table with her open palm, startling me.

"You ass. What the fuck were you thinking?" but that was just the beginning. She yelled at me for a solid thirty minutes, telling me how I had fucked up in minute detail as Emmett watched both of us. I appreciated Rosalie's passion. I had lost the most important person in my life, and I didn't see any way of ever repairing the damage I had caused.

I took every jab and put down that she threw at me, resting my chin on my chest in shame. I would try to look at her so I could feel her wrath more fully, but I could only maintain eye contact for a few moments before I was looking at my threadbare jeans once again.

"Now, come here," she said, her voice becoming gentle and tender as she pulled me close to her. "I need to feed you. You look like shit. When was the last time you ate?"

So I ate whether I was hungry or not.

When my alarm went off in the morning, I didn't expect anyone to be up, but Emmett was in the kitchen, yawning and pouring two mugs of coffee pushing one toward me. I wordlessly drank and then ate the doughnut he set in front of me. Apparently, Rosalie had given orders to make sure I ate, and high fat seemed to be on the menu.

Thankfully, the rain had stopped. By ten o'clock, Emmett and I had the remainder of my things out of Edward's house, having picked up boxes at Emmett's office.

As I was locking the door with the hidden key, I looked down at the doormat with our names on it. That's how we were going to do it. Whitlock-Cullen. I was so important to him that he decided that my name should come first. We were going to be together forever. We were _supposed_ to be together forever.

Fighting hard to swallow the thick lump in my throat, I felt Emmett's large hand come down on my shoulder as the numbness I had been feeling since Edward shut and locked the door in my face finally fell away. In its place was a crushing, burning pain that I felt deep behind my sternum, and the sound that pushed past my vocal chords was the anguished cry of a broken man.

My bottom lip quivered and my eyes filled with tears as I tried to hold it back, but Emmett pulled me into his broad chest and whispered, "Just let it go, Jasper. You've held it in long enough. Don't be ashamed."

At those words, my tears pushed past my lashes and spilled out, wetting his light gray shirt, turning it charcoal. He stood there rubbing my back and whispering soft things that one would never expect to come from his mouth, giving me permission to freely express myself. I took him up on it.

Pulling back when he sensed me calm, he said, "Now, let's get out of here and go get some really spicy food. Okay? Spicy like you used to eat in Texas. Ready?" I nodded, yet unable to speak.

#

The following day, Rosalie and I drove to Forks to try to get things situated for my mother. Despite the initial anger my mom directed my way for bringing Rose in on things, she eventually relented once Rosalie told her that I lost Edward over keeping secrets.

"No more secrets for anyone, Mom," I hollered at her. "I don't even want to know about a surprise party or what a gift is until it's opened. Secrets are poison." I had to leave the house and walk around the block several times after telling her that, the tears fighting to break through the dam that I had rebuilt. They never fell.

While I was gone, Rosalie took care of most of the logistics, as only she could, including calling Carlisle and forcing my mother to talk to him about a loan. He also talked about a mutual friend who needed help in his office. Several days later, we found out that our mother had a new job.

The rest of spring break passed without me noticing as I mourned not only losing my lover but, even more so, for losing my best friend. Rosalie and Emmett tried cheering me and on occasion it would work, but sadness and apathy were my main emotional states. When they sat in the living room being openly affectionate with each other, I had to leave the room. I would start to cry out of the blue at times, realizing moments later that I had seen something that reminded me of Edward or I had absently thought about things we had done together, words that had been spoken, or the way that we used to hold one another. It was at those moments I'd find my fingers tracing the leather on my left wrist once again, soothing my nerves; it was all I had left of him.

When the spring quarter started, I spoke to Dr. Banner and told him that Edward and I were no longer together and that I thought separate shows might be easier on Edward. But this late in the game, it wasn't possible to make any changes. I was told that our show would have to go on as planned since strings had been pulled to do a combined show in the first place. Our venue had been reserved months ago and so much work had been done for a joint show. It would be hard, but as I had told Carlisle, I would do my best to be a good friend to Edward.

The first week back at school, I realized that I had extra time on my hands compared to the previous semester. The art show would require a lot of studio hours, but that was my only responsibility. Having so much time on my hands was not a good thing.

Walking around the Capitol Hill neighborhood one afternoon passing time before my therapy appointment, I neared the B&O Espresso where I confessed to Edward that I was gay. Without thought I walked in and ordered a drink from the same girl with the piercings that always seemed to help me. She was always nice to me and often told me funny jokes. I'm not sure what made me ask her, but I wanted to know if they were hiring. I walked out that day with a large dark roast with cream … and a job.

That night, I started at the shop and worked each weekday evening until close. The pay wasn't great, but the tips helped make up for it. Of course, I was used to making a very high hourly rate as a model, but I could no longer count on that.

It wasn't until Thursday that I saw Edward in the art studio on campus. Our workspaces were right next to each other, and as I walked into the colorful room, I couldn't help it when my feet became planted in the concrete—rooted—as my eyes trailed over his pale skin and his brilliant hair. He glanced up from the canvas he was painting and quickly looked back to his palette. Making my way to my space, I unpacked and gathered my supplies, doing my best to work without getting distracted. The tension between us was so thick the other students in the studio started giving us concerned looks, trying to cut the mood with small talk. When that didn't work, someone finally just turned up the music so it filled the room.

As Edward started to clean up and get ready to leave, I approached him. "Edward." He refused to make eye contact, so I continued, "I talked to Dr. Banner, trying to separate our shows so it wouldn't ruin your senior show." His green eyes met mine; they were intense but hard to read. "I'm sorry it can't be done, but I'll do everything I can to make this easy for you." His only response was a curt nod of his head as he threw his messenger bag over his shoulder and left the studio.

"Holy shit. What the hell happened to you guys?" our friend Pete said from across the room. I just shook my head and tried fruitlessly to finish my project, finally giving up and calling it a night. Every few days, I'd see Edward on campus, and it was always the same. I'd try to talk to him about something related to our show, and he'd give his answers in nods, doing his best to avoid eye contact with me. I had no idea how we were going to work together to bring our show to fruition if he wouldn't speak to me. Somehow, I had to bring about some sort of change.

The first week in April I was walking on campus under the canopy of flowering cherry blossoms, enjoying the heady scent but unable to appreciate the beauty as I had every other year at the University of Washington. I tried to sit and sketch the blossom-laden trees of the quad but couldn't get my hand to cooperate. My mind continued to skip back to the day I tried to apologize to Edward for everything I had done. Perhaps I'd gone there that day to purge myself of my guilt. I wasn't sure, but it was obvious to me that Edward was still holding onto a lot of anger. What if I allowed him to rage at me, let him get all that anger off his chest? Would that help him?

Before my shift at the coffeehouse, I headed over to his house and walked to the door, stopping myself from simply opening the familiar brass knob and walking in. Instead, I knocked and waited, taking note that the doormat was gone. The only evidence it was ever there was the dirt remaining on the porch where I could faintly make out a 'W' and a 'C'. When he answered the door, Edward was wearing tight jeans and a shirt he usually reserved for going out.

Taking a deep breath, I started. "Edward, I owe you a huge apology for the way that I treated," the door slammed, "you."

The next night when I knocked, he was wearing flannel pants and a tank top. "I fucked up so badly, and I know I hurt you so much by pulling away. Please allow me," SLAM "the opportunity to explain what happened." I raised my voice near the end, hoping it would travel through the wood.

On the third evening, he answered before I was even done knocking. "You should just go away, Jasper. I don't want to hear it." But the door didn't shut.

"I can't go away, Edward. You're my best friend, and I owe you an explanation for what happened. You deserve that." I stopped and looked at his eyes, hoping and praying that he'd invite me in. SLAM. At least he let me finish my sentence that time.

At the studio the next day, Edward and I were silently working next to each other while the rest of the room moved about as if we weren't there destroying the serenity of the space. When Edward left the room at lunchtime to get something to eat with Pete, I pulled the leather bound sketchbook I had purchased with my tip money, out of my bag. Taking it to a nearby table, I unwrapped the narrow lash from the rich brown cover, before opening it to the first page. Looking over what I had placed there the night before, I resolved myself, rewrapped the leather tie, looked around the room, and finally bent over to slip the sketchbook into Edward's bag.

I didn't see him for a week.

* * *

Music selection: Evanecense, Bring Me To Life

**Edit: 3/5/2012**


	26. Negative Space

**Negative Space**

**negative space** |ˈnegətiv spas| adjective & noun combination  
1. a compositional tool used in both two- and three-dimensional work. The simplest way to describe it is as: "space where other things are not present."  
2. empty space surrounding a shape or form, a void.  
3. enclosed empty space which makes an essential contribution to the composition.  
ORIGIN late Middle English: from late Latin negativus, from negare 'deny'.  
ORIGIN Middle English: shortening of Old French espace, from Latin spatium. Current verb senses date from the late 17th cent.

* * *

After my round of vomiting, my stomach settled and I was able to eat the crackers my mother had brought into my room and sip on the ginger ale. My physical body seemed to be back up and running, so I ate leftovers alone while my parents were gone at some art function having tried to drag me along. Although I hadn't told my mother what I had discovered about Jasper, she knew it wasn't good and was fearful of leaving me alone in the mood I'd been. I was very distant as I pushed all the hurt down; trying to decipher truth from lies. In the end, it didn't matter. What did matter was that I wouldn't allow myself to be broken again. With a little acting, I was able to calm her nerves enough for them to leave me in peace.

I ignored Jasper's call. There was nothing I had to say to him, nothing I wanted to hear from him, so I turned my phone off.

When I heard the doorbell, I made my way to the foyer and heard the unmistakable nervous cough of Jasper on the other side of the door.

"What do you want, Jasper?" I asked through the door, unwilling to open it. What good would looking at him do? I'd most likely cave and accept his pathetic apology like I did on Valentine's Day, and I had to be stronger than that. It was time I stopped letting him hurt me.

"I need to talk to you about something, baby," his voice wavered.

"You don't get to call me 'baby,' anymore, Jasper."

"Edward, I have to tell you so many things. I've been a complete ass, and I need to talk to you."

He had been more than an ass and I knew what I needed to do. There wasn't a shred of doubt in my mind that it was the right thing. I needed to make a break from him, once and for all. Unlocking the deadbolt, I opened the door, fully intending to deliver my message and shut it again. I was taken by surprise for a moment as he offered a bouquet of tulips to me. Everlasting love. Right. Ignoring the flowers I met his azure gaze, refusing to be swayed. Stoically, I stated, "You need to be moved out of my house by tomorrow afternoon." I shut the heavy door and slid the lock back into place.

As I pivoted on my bare feet, padding on the tile floor toward the family room, I heard him through the door. "Edward. Edward! Please. Please, let me talk to you!" His voice was pleading but I continued to walk, unwilling to let him speak to ease his mind. Slipping into the solarium and closing the heavy glass door behind me, I was able to silence his voice and pounding fists. Stripping down, I dove into the pool and started to swim laps. I looked up through the skylights at the whispers of spring as I lazily did the backstroke across the pool, losing myself in the repetition of my movements. Having my ears below the water ensured that no sounds from outside would reach me. All I heard was the beating of my heart, air moving in and out of my lungs, and the soft splashes of water.

When I was relaxing in the hot tub, my mother peeked out to greet me, letting me know they were home before she left me alone. Showering several minutes later, I looked at the tile floor as I passed the photos of Jasper and me. The mint shampoo was refreshing and woke me up, helping me find the perfect balance of being relaxed yet awake.

Joining my mother in the kitchen, I couldn't help notice the vase of creme tulips sitting on the counter, but she drew my attention away from them by handing me a glass of red wine. Jasper must have left the flowers sitting by the front door.

"We ran into Aro at the gallery," she said, pausing for a sip of wine. "I hope you don't mind, but I invited him to your senior art show. He's very excited to see your work because he's been following your editorial in the paper."

I nodded as she continued, but I wasn't paying attention. Senior art show. That's when she lost me. Looking down at my glass, I swirled the wine around and watched as the legs of the wine slowly slid down the sides of the crystal. I was mesmerized by the physics of the liquid and hadn't even noticed that my mother had left the room until she walked back in wearing pajamas. When I looked up, she smiled at me and asked me to join her for a game of cards.

We played several games, listened to soft jazz, and drank our wine before I realized that my father wasn't home. Just as I was about to ask where he was, my dad walked into the family room wearing his Armani suit. Looking from me to my mother, he gave us a closed mouth smile and put his hands in his pockets. He looked weary.

"Edward, did you have a good evening?" I nodded and took another sip. "It's a shame you didn't come with us tonight. I met several people who've been very impressed with your work at the _Times_. It seems you already have a following." Walking behind me, he placed his hands on my shoulders and kneaded the muscles I hadn't realized were tense once again. "Well, I'm beat. I'm going to bed." Stretching his arms above his head, he yawned and said good night, my mom joining him soon after.

I watched the news and flipped around various channels prior to heading up to bed. Stripping down, I laid down on the silky sheets, pulling the comforter up under my chin. As I focused my attention on the rain falling outside, patterns emerged on the ceiling as I looked up—faint and obscure—but they were there nonetheless.

Thinking about patterns in plaster?

Was I so unfeeling that I could let Jasper go so easily? I hadn't felt pain when I opened the door, only a twinge of anger that I quickly dismissed. Too much had been done.

There was nothing left to salvage.

At that thought, a single tear slipped down my temple before it got lost in my hair. One tear.

Rolling over to my side, I buried my cheek in the pillow and tried to sleep, but images flashed behind my eyes. Ignoring them, I flipped to my stomach and eventually felt my breathing even out and become slower.

When I awoke in the morning and turned to the clock, I groaned when I saw that it was already eleven. Pulling my jeans over my naked ass, I shuffled downstairs to get some coffee to try to bring me out of my stupor. The house seemed to be empty, and as I sipped from my mug, I wrote a note to my parents, thanking them for their hospitality and letting them know I was heading back home.

Once I cleaned up my mess in the kitchen, I took a quick shower and packed everything I had brought over to their house. Soon, I was on the Interstate traveling close to home when I decided to stop at the liquor store and pick up some vodka and wine.

By the time I arrived home, it was nearly one and Jasper seemed to be nowhere in sight, so I pulled into the garage and started unloading the car. As soon as the front door was opened, I noticed the house felt different. Setting my bags down, I bent over to untie my laces and slip off my shoes when the sparkle of metal caught my eye. On the small table that sat by the front door was a note that I picked up and Jasper's key.

_Edward,_

_I owe you so much. There has never been anyone in my entire life who has loved me like you have. I'm so regretful that I wasted that love, and I ache for what I have done to you. I miss you as my lover, Edward, but I yearn for you as my friend. My words are feeble at describing how I feel. There's only one way… _

_I will always love you,_

_Jasper_

I took in a shaky breath and slid the note under his key before moving my luggage into my bedroom to unpack. It looked different with his belongings missing, even more so once I opened the closet and saw his entire side empty. Standing in the doorway to the walk-in closet, my eyes traveled over the barren space, traversing the blond maple closet rod and the pegs that used to hold his ties. Hastily, I threw my dirty clothes in the laundry basket, turned the light off, and closed the door.

When my stomach growled, I headed to the kitchen to make myself a fried egg sandwich. Digging through the cupboard, I tried to find my favorite bowl for scrambling eggs. It was green and had not only a handle to make the job easier but also a spout to make pouring the eggs neat and easy. Not in the cupboard. Curious. Opening the dishwasher—the place it had to be—I found it was missing.

Jasper bought that bowl. It was his.

It was gone.

Pulling out a yellow ceramic bowl, I mixed my eggs and milk together and poured them in the heated skillet, spilling all over the ceramic cook top and making a mess.

"Fuck! God damn, son of a bitch!"

I turned off the stove and threw away the eggs.

After eating my lunch of buttered toast, I threw in Fellowship of the Ring and lounged on the couch for the rest of the afternoon, indulging in not only the movie but also the special features. For supper, I ordered a small cheese pizza and ate one slice.

In the evening, I pulled out my art supplies and tried to sit at the dining room table and sketch. It was of little use. There was nothing that interested me enough to draw.

Eventually, I pulled out the vodka and started mixing it with various things around the kitchen. Soon, I was drunk enough to fall asleep. I waited until the last possible moment though, unwilling to go into my bedroom until I knew that I'd fall asleep. There was no way I'd allow myself to lay there and think. My eyes closed the moment my head hit the pillow.

A dry mouth and crushing pain in my head woke me. At least I was no longer numb. By late afternoon, I was feeling as if I had rejoined the human race and decided to finally move outside of the comfort zone I created for myself. All my focus had been on the utilitarian things in the house: the fridge, stove, table, television, and bed. I hadn't allowed myself to look around the house; I already knew it felt different.

I knew I had to force myself to come up, break through the surface, if only for a moment.

In my bedroom, I saw the light reflect off several nails where Jasper had removed his framed sketches. Everything I had drawn remained. The stylized nude I had drawn on Christmas Eve remained as well as his gift to me. I stood and looked at them, feeling the empty hole open up once again. It happened so quickly; it felt as if a tidal wave had crashed through my soul. I took them down, leaving the room feeling as vacant as I felt. The pictures ended up on Jasper's side of the closet, facing the wall. Throughout the house I found pieces of art I had done over the years that reminded me of him. Soon my closet didn't feel so empty anymore.

When I unlocked the studio, I took a deep breath before opening the door. The familiar smell of pencils and leather was there, but it wasn't the same space. It was cold and empty. His charcoal sweater that was perpetually hanging on the back of his chair was gone. Only the letter 'E' remained hanging on the wall. His desk was cleared off and stripped, scrubbed clean of all dirt and grime. The shelf that once held all his black, spiral-bound sketchbooks was bare. His side of the studio looked sterile.

At my desk, Jasper had laid out the colored pencils he had bought me along with a few other tools that had been broken. When I opened the cover of the colored pencil tin, it had a note inside from my favorite art supply store.

_Jasper ~_

_Anytime you want to trade your artwork for supplies, I'd be more than happy to haggle. Your work is amazing and I know it will sell quickly._

_Your friend,_

_~Renee_

I felt my brows knit together as I read the note a second time. He had traded his artwork to replace things for me? What had he traded? I would probably never know, I realized as I frantically turned around to see what pieces of his were missing from the wall behind the daybed. All of his artwork was missing. Of course it was. I hoped he hadn't traded something that was important to him just to replace some shitty art supplies.

"Fuck. God damn it, Jasper. Why the fuck couldn't you just come to me?"

And so started the anger. Little by little, it started to grow each day, like a wave moving toward shore. I didn't think it was that bad until I blew up at the cashier helping me at the grocery store for not including a package of gum with the rest of my items. Then I progressed to yelling at people on the road. When my mother or father would call me, I was short with them, barely allowing them to ask their questions before making up an excuse to hang up. By the time the wave could be seen on the shore, it felt like a fucking tsunami, and I was thankful that no one I knew was around to witness the shit I was pulling. I was being a major prick to everyone I came across, garnering me "fuck offs" and various rude hand gestures; all well deserved.

A week after Jasper moved out, I was driving down a busy street, cussing at a pedestrian who decided to walk when the sign clearly said "Don't Walk." Fucker. I had turned around to get a look at the guy—right, like I was going to hunt him down—when I looked back to see I was inches from a light pole.

I wrapped my car around it.

Lucky for me, I was able to walk away with minor bumps and bruises. My car wasn't so lucky. My father met me in the emergency room; he was pissed when he found out how the accident had happened. Of course, that was after he knew I was basically unharmed.

"Let me guess," he said with his arms crossed over his chest in the exam room, "you've been yelling at people left and right for the last several days, right?" He raised a brow and I knew I had to be honest with him, so I nodded. His voice softened as he reached for my hand. "Edward, I know you're hurting right now, but this isn't helpful. Have you spoken to Jasper since you asked him to move out?"

"No."

"Did you give him an opportunity to talk to you before you told him to go?"

"No." I looked down at my bruised, left hand.

"He came that night to talk to you. Do you know that?" I nodded before he continued. "And you didn't give him a chance. I know this because he talked to me while you and your mother sat and played cards."

I looked at him in confusion. "Wait. What? You talked to him?"

"I didn't do so much talking as I did listening."

"What did he say?" I wanted to know.

"That's for him to tell you, but he can't do that if you won't hear him out. And he certainly can't talk to you if you go and kill yourself because you can't keep your anger in check while driving. I'm going to assume you have your reasons for not allowing Jasper to talk, but you aren't one to hold grudges, which is why this is so disconcerting to me.

"School starts again tomorrow, Edward, and you're going to have to work in the same studio as Jasper and get your art show organized. How are you going to manage that?" He was asking with genuine curiosity and worry, not judgment or challenge.

"I honestly don't know, Dad. I think I need to see if I can have my own show. There's just no way I can work with him right now."

He took a deep breath and released a very long sigh before he put his hand on my shoulder. "I won't pretend to know what went on between you two, but I do know how Jasper feels about you, and I'm positive that you know, too. Something major had to have happened for you to react the way you did. I trust you, Edward, and I will support you. I love both of you boys, but I won't get in between you. Yet, I feel I have to say this to you. Anger is a poison that eats away at your soul. Right now, the anger feels good, but soon, it's going to dissolve into regret. You apparently need to feel this rage right now though. Just please, please, don't do anything that you can't return from. You could have died today. Find a healthy outlet, okay? Running. Boxing. Drawing." He pulled me into his chest and I wrapped my arms around his waist. "Just no more car accidents, okay?" I nodded as he kissed the top of my head. Walking toward the door, he pointed at me and whispered, "I love you."

I thought a lot about what my father had said over the next several days. Never before had I been one to hold onto anger like this. Forgiveness was usually quick and easy because it hurt too much to be mad at someone. It took too much energy away from me and it got in the way of being creative. Now, I couldn't let it go no matter what I tried. Drawing was useless. I tried running. After eight miles and exhausted muscles, I was just as angry as I was before I left the house. At the gym I tried to box, but my left hand was still bruised and sore from my car accident.

On Wednesday, I asked Alice to go car shopping with me. I knew retail therapy helped some people, and since I needed a new car, I figured I'd give it a go. She was a great help and encouraged me to get something fun. For as long as I could remember, I had been practical. When I paid for my blue Audi TTS Roadster and the sales woman handed me my keys, I felt a rush of happiness flood my system. It was nice to feel that again. Driving home with the top down and the wind whipping in my hair felt phenomenal. I took Alice out to dinner to thank her for her help.

After we had ordered and were sipping our wine, Alice got serious. "Rosalie said you told Jasper to move out of your house. Is this true?"

"Yes," I said maintaining eye contact until she broke it by looking down to her glass.

"Do you … want to talk about it?" she asked as she peeked up at me through her dark lashes.

"Honestly, it's such a long story we could close the restaurant down, and I'm not sure I'd be done telling it. Suffice it to say, Jasper didn't trust me enough to come to me when he needed help and, in turn, ended up hurting me more than if he had just been honest from the start. I'm done with that shit. He keeps everything inside, and I can't live like that anymore."

She pressed her lips together and nodded before she looked down. "So, can I ask you a few things?"

"Sure. You know you can ask me nearly anything."

"Jasper has been your best friend for practically eight years now, right?" I nodded. "Is that over too?"

I took a long, slow sip of my wine, trying to buy myself some time.

"For now. It's just better this way."

"Better for who? Better for you is what you mean, right Edward?"

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and scanned the table for a few moments.

"What else do you want to ask, Alice?" I wasn't ready to answer her yet.

"Jasper holds a lot of shit inside. You've known that from the first moment you met him. How long did it take for him to even talk to you?" It had been two solid weeks, but I didn't say it out loud. "It's part of how things worked in his family. So, this wasn't the first time he shut you out. That's all I'm saying, but you've always let him keep you at a distance. That's how things were handled in your family; leave someone alone until they're ready to talk, but make sure you're there when they need you. Right?" I nodded and took another sip of wine. Just then our food arrived, and we took a few tentative bites before she continued, "So there's Jasper, who keeps everything inside and tries to hide away, and then there's you, who just tries to give him his space until he's ready to stop hiding. But, he wasn't coming out from his hiding spot this time, was he?"

I shook my head. "In fact, he kept going deeper and deeper inside his hole."

"Rose told me he looks like a skeleton, but she's fattening him up." She gave me a quick smile before taking a few bites, and I could see the wheels spinning in her brain. Nonchalantly, she quipped, "Whatever it was, it must have terrified him if he wasn't able to eat."

"There were a lot of things he stopped doing, Alice."

"Oh, like what?"

"Sleeping, spending time with me, touching me, having sex … to name a few."

"What? No sex? Okay, now I _know_ it had to have been bad. The way you two have been all over each other … for Christ's sakes, he pulled you up to the third floor before the Halloween party to get it on."

My eyes widened, and I'm sure they looked like saucers at that point. "You knew about that?"

"Come on, Edward. I'm not stupid; I know a freshly fucked face when I see one. That night, I saw two. Anyway, my point is to have your sex life wane a bit when you're stressed is normal, but it sounds like yours literally died."

"Alice, I see what you're trying to do, but it's just not happening. I've been hurt too badly, and what happened this time…" I stopped to swallow the lump that had all too easily formed in my throat, trying to disguise my pain by taking a sip of water. "It doesn't matter if he was my best friend or that he knows me better than anyone or that I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him. It doesn't matter because it's over, and he was the one who set that in motion. Not me. I can no longer be attached to him. In any fashion."

Alice nodded and put her last forkful of food in her mouth.

"Can I get you anything else this evening? Dessert perhaps?" Saved by the server.

"No thanks, just the check please." As he pulled our bill out of his pocket, I handed him my credit card. He was back in moments and we were headed out to my new car.

On the drive to Alice's house, I could tell something more was on her mind, so when she turned to me once I pulled into her driveway, I wasn't surprised.

"One last thing." I faced her and gave a curt nod. "If you're done with Jasper, why are you still wearing this?" She pulled my left hand into her lap, tracing the embossed leather with her tiny fingertip. When I tried bringing my hand back to the steering wheel, she held it firmly. "Seriously, Edward."

"I don't fucking know Alice," I nearly shouted as I yanked my hand back and looked down at the dark leather that had molded to my wrist, softening and becoming like a second skin to me. Barely above a whisper I admitted, "I put it on every morning. It just fits."

When I was finally able to meet her eyes, I was surprised to see sadness. What I had expected was cockiness, but she gave me nothing near that.

"Maybe you need to ask yourself why you can't give that up." She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek before she got out of the car.

At my house, I walked into the silent space and immediately turned on my iPod so it wouldn't feel so empty. I called my parents and told each of them about my new car purchase. My father was a bit jealous while my mother thought I should have been a bit more practical in my purchase. Yet, I knew she'd love it once I took her on a drive. It was her kind of car.

The next morning after my shower, I stood at the dresser and stared at the leather cuff as it appeared to get larger with each passing moment. Why was it so hard to just leave it off my wrist? Picking it up, I slid it over my arm and felt how it formed to my body. My thumb instinctually traced the patterns and moved to the metal buckles to fasten them.

I stopped myself and took the cuff off, placing it in the top drawer instead.

When I arrived at Dr. Banner's office for the meeting I had set up with his secretary, I was told that he was called out for the day and that I'd have to reschedule, which I did. I had planned on spending the rest of the day in the on-campus studio, so I made my way over and started to set up a canvas I had started before spring break. It felt good to be back in a more public workspace with the energy of people around me. Working at home had felt empty and uninspiring even after rearranging my home studio to make it feel less … naked.

Jasper walked into the studio and quickly became rooted to a spot on the floor when his eyes met mine. Looking back to my palette, I tried to ignore the sensation of adrenaline rushing through my body, but it demanded my attention. My limbs all tingled before becoming numb for a few seconds as the drug rushed toward my toes and fingers. Somehow, all those pulses traveled back and settled in my torso, causing my stomach to flip a few times. Only then, did I notice that Jasper had started setting up in his adjacent workspace.

We worked side by side for hours, not uttering a word, and just as I started to pack up my supplies to leave, he made his way over to me. He told me that he had already talked to Dr. Banner, and he had tried to get our shows separated, but it couldn't be done.

"I'll do everything I can to make this easy for you," he promised. I nodded and left.

Nothing about this would be easy. Seeing him in the same studio with me hadn't been easy. I needed to do something to make it easier. Anything.

That night, I headed out to Eclipse after calling Riley to see if he'd like to join me, not sure if a newly married man would really want a night out, especially with an ex. I invited Paul to be polite but was relieved when it was just Riley going. I picked him up in my car, which got a lot of compliments.

Pulling up to the club, we saw quite a line forming but easily passed the crowd when the bouncer recognized us and invited us in. Walking to the bar and ordering, I turned with my drink in hand and watched the dance floor, instantly feeling the energy overtake me. It had been so long since I had truly been in the club scene. Riley laughed at me and I scowled at him.

"You look like you just clicked your ruby slippers and finally got back to Kansas," he teased.

"I don't know about all that but it's been a while." I allowed my body to move to the music and Riley looked me up and down. "I missed this. Come on. Let's dance." I easily tossed back my drink and grabbed his hand, pulling him to the dance floor.

"Fuck, Edward. I'm a married man." I laughed at him as I pulled him close to me and ground up against him, watching as he took a deep breath and a half step back. "You have no idea what you still do to me; do you?" he asked and I smiled and shook my head. I doubted that I did anything for him. He was simply being generous to a friend who needed some fun and an ego boost.

We danced and worked up a sweat, and just as I was peeling my shirt off my body and tucking it in my back pocket, I saw him. He was about five foot seven with long ebony hair that was tied back into a silky ponytail that brushed the middle of his back. His skin was dark, deeply tanned, and his eyes were the deepest obsidian I had ever seen. The dark ink on his lean body was etched on in thick, bold strokes and drew my eye over his flawless form. Turning his back to me, he glanced over his shoulder and winked.

Riley drew my attention back to him by saying my name. "You see something you like?" I was dumb-founded and could only nod. He chuckled and pulled out his phone. "It's getting late anyway. I'll just have Paul come and pick me up."

"Wait. What? No. It's not like I'm going home with him. I don't really work like that, Riley."

"No Edward, you don't, but from what I just saw happen to your face, I think that's about to change. Go have fun." He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me on each cheek before he left the dance floor with his phone at his ear.

When I turned back, I didn't see the boy that had caught my eye, so I headed in the direction I had last seen him. I made my way up the elongated ramp that led to the second floor and saw him standing at the bar.

"Dirty martini," I ordered. "What can I get you?"

"Nothing, thanks," he said shyly.

"Not drinking tonight or done drinking?" I asked giving his body a quick once over.

"Done drinking," he answered as he looked up at me because of our height difference.

"How about dancing? You done dancing, too?"

He flipped open his phone and checked the time. "I have about twenty more minutes. You wanna go?" he gestured over his shoulder. I nodded and grabbed his hand to lead him back down to the dance floor, leaving my drink untouched.

In the middle of the pulsing mass of people, we drew our bodies close together, brushing skin against skin and causing nipples to harden and cocks to spring to life. He ground into me and I could feel his impressive size. I hoped to God that he was a bottom because there is no way I'd be able to take that. In fact, I had no desire to bottom.

Making my way behind him, I slipped my hands around his hips and allowed them to settle on his waistband. I drew in a deep breath when he pushed his ass back toward me, pretty much verifying what I had hoped.

"You sure you have to go so soon?" I asked.

He turned toward me again and wrapped his arms around my neck as my hands made their way to his ass.

"I have to pick my grandfather up at the airport, but I'll be back on Saturday. Will you?"

He ran his nose from my collarbone up to just behind my ear where he settled his lips in an open mouthed kiss. Trailing across his jaw, I found his full lips and opened my mouth to him, finding his velvety tongue waiting for me. My hands trailed up his naked back and found his silky ponytail. Pulling on it, I forced his head back and sucked up the sensitive skin on his neck, eliciting a moan as I got near his ear.

"Saturday. I'll be here. Now, go get your grandfather," I said and I slapped him on the ass as he left the dance floor.

I hadn't felt that powerful and in control for months.

* * *

**Edit: 3/5/2012**


	27. Bokeh

**Bokeh**

**bokeh** |bo'ka| noun Photography  
1. the visual quality of the out-of-focus areas of a photographic image, especially as rendered by a particular lens  
2. the blur or the aesthetic quality of the blur, in out-of-focus areas of an image  
3. the way the lens renders out-of-focus points of light.  
ORIGIN from Japanese Yun ke or boke boke 'blur' or 'haze'.

* * *

It burned as it slid down my throat, but it was a good burn, the kind that let me know I was there and in the moment not at home feeling vacant and detached. I hadn't planned on returning until Saturday, but after an afternoon of finding nothing to occupy my mind, I knew I needed a distraction, a true diversion from thinking about things that wouldn't leave me alone. After my second shot, I was ready to dance.

I made my way through the hot mess of bodies but was bored with all the prospects. No one caught my eye, but that didn't surprise me. People used to chide me for being picky or even elitist in my taste in men. Little did they know that I'd had my sights set on the guy that slept in the other bedroom in my own house. Perhaps now that I had finally tasted that and been burned, I'd be able to find other men more attractive.

No one sparked my interest, so I drank and sat and talked to old friends who I hadn't seen in months, some for nearly a year. How had I let my friends go so easily? It surprised me to find out that Thomas and Vincent had a commitment ceremony and that Zac had been diagnosed with HIV. How could I have been gone so long that I hadn't been there for my friends? I had gotten so wrapped up in Jasper I left other parts of my life behind, abandoned or betrayed. That made me sad.

It was as I was sitting on a lime green leather couch talking to Zac that I saw a boy walk by that caught my eye. Hell, he caught more than my eye. As Zac was telling me about his job and new home, my entire body followed the lanky brunette until my back was facing my friend. Zac laughed at my unconscious display and told me the guys name and a little bit of information about him. I sat back on the couch and tried to play it cool, but I felt off, as if I no longer had a filter on my emotions. I used to be the aloof one, the one who either confused you or made you more interested because you wanted to know more. Either way, I was often oblivious as to whether I had even been noticed by other men and rarely took notice of others. At that moment, I was the desperate one, unable to take my eyes of the tall boy wearing all black.

"Tell me about this guy you've been dating," Zac said, trying to re-engage me.

"Uhm. Not much to say, really. Besides that we aren't together anymore." I finally turned back to him as someone stood in the way of the brunette as he ordered a drink at the bar.

He nodded his head and narrowed his eyes. "Riley told me about him, and it sounded serious."

"It was. And now it's over." I looked into his hazel eyes and read the sadness that he felt from my words. "Listen, I'm going to get another drink. I'll see you around, Zac." I stood, looking down at him with an apologetic smile, but I had no desire to think about Jasper at that moment.

Walking through the club, I made eye contact with a few guys but kept looking for the brunette who had disappeared. I finally spotted him, taking a bump of something before he pocketed it. Standing in the shadows, I watched as he seemed to relax before his eyes met mine. They were blue, so light that they almost glowed in the darkened corner of the club. As much as I wanted them to be ebony, blue would have to do. When he looked at me, he gave me a lopsided smile as he winked at me and ever so slightly moved his head, as if he was inviting me to follow him. As soon as he walked away from me, I did.

This was so unlike me, hooking up with a random guy, but I looked at him and followed, ignoring the protests going on in my head.

He took me down a dark hallway that I'd never seen. Soon, we passed what looked like an exterior door that didn't lead outside but rather to a narrow stairway. Nerves and fear seemed to light up in my stomach but I squelched them, putting one foot in front of the other, following the stranger … somewhere.

Our destination was exactly what I thought it was going to be, but I had never been there before. The room at the top of the stairs was dark with walls seeming to disappear because of the rich navy blue they were painted. The smell and sounds of sex were overwhelming, and the brunette boy took my hand and led me to a large pillar in the center of the room. Several men were in the space in various states of undress, fucking, sucking, and participating in other assorted activities.

When my pants were unbuttoned, I looked down as the boy reached into my low-rise briefs and pulled me out, tucking the waistband below my balls. He looked up at me and gave me a devious smile before he wrapped his lips around my cock and started to work me. I couldn't help it when my fingers slipped into his short hair, allowing the short wisps to trail across my palms, tickling them. When I tried to grasp his hair between my fingers, it was too short to hold onto so I dropped my unsatisfied hands to my thighs.

He was good and I found myself relaxing and letting the sensations spread through my body as he worked hard to bring me to climax. When my hips started moving, I allowed my pleasure to be freely vocalized, and my voice joined the chorus of men in our sexual symphony. Curse words slipped past my lips as he sucked my balls and when he returned to my cock, it didn't take long before I felt my impending orgasm rushing forward.

When I looked down at him as I shot my load down his throat, he looked up at me and swallowed, his blue eyes haunting me. So similar. I had to grab his hair and look away to remind myself that it wasn't Jasper. Before he could stand, I pulled my pants back in place and headed for the stairs, buttoning them as my feet made the quick decent to the club.

I quickly drove home and couldn't wait to get in the shower, to wash the night away. It must have been thirty minutes later that I emerged from the steamy bathroom, skin reddened, fingertips wrinkled and feeling somewhat better. My muscles were relaxed.

Yet I couldn't sleep. Blue eyes kept looking up at me.

It was three the last time I had looked at the clock before I fell asleep and ten by the time I awoke. Showered. Ate. Gathered supplies. Stopped for coffee. Dropped off some paper work. Deposited some cash. Arrived at the studio. Attempted to get lost in my work.

After spending the afternoon working on campus with Jasper standing less than six feet from me, feeling my muscles gradually tighten as the hours passed, I was more than ready to go to Eclipse and release my tension. Before I had even walked through the door, I felt my shoulders drop as I allowed myself to drink in the music. It was going to be a good night.

At the bar, I allowed myself a few minutes to take in the delicious sight of half naked men before I headed upstairs to see if I could find anyone I knew. The brunette from the night before appeared to be nowhere in sight, of which I was glad, but I was hoping my friend from two nights ago was there. As I walked around the second floor, I didn't see him anywhere. Rather than wander all night, I leaned against the nickel railing, sipped my martini and watched the bare chests down below rise and fall with the pulsing bass. I saw a few familiar faces and simply nodded or raised my glass in greeting, not really interested in talking. That's not what the night was for.

Just as I finished my drink, I felt the heat of a body slide behind me. "You looking for someone or just admiring the skin?"

I turned to see the dark eyes I craved and couldn't help but smile at him. "A little of both, actually. I mean, seriously. How can you look down at that," I said, pointing to the dance floor, "and not appreciate the view? You know?"

He laughed and stood beside me, gazing at the writhing bodies. "You make a very good point, my friend. I'm Seth, by the way." When he turned his head to face me, his heavy, straight hair fell over his right shoulder and I noticed that it wasn't tied back as it had been the other night.

"Hi Seth," I smiled at him and leaned in closely, making sure he would feel my breath wash across his neck as I spoke. "My name's Edward and aren't you a little young to be in here?"

"Technically, but I'm not drinking. I'm just here to dance."

"How old are you, Seth?" I turned my body toward him and found my eyes drifting down his torso and visually tracing the hard planes of his defined chest, pausing a moment when I saw the dark circles of his nipples through his thin, white tissue T-shirt. His voice, answering my question, brought my eyes back up to his and I saw a smirk quickly fade from his full, red lips before he spoke. He liked that I noticed.

"I'm nineteen and a freshman at UW. What about you?"

"I'm twenty two and a senior."

"Well, now that we got that out of the way, how about we get a closer look at all that naked skin?"

I nodded and pulled him by his long fingers down the protracted ramp and onto the dance floor. Blue lights flashed, reflecting in his satiny hair, mirroring the color back to me as his hips immediately took up the cadence of the music. His face lit up as he moved with me; his arms drew me closer into his lean body and gave me the opportunity to feel his firmness. He truly was huge. Rubbing himself against my thigh, I couldn't help but groan quietly. When I moved behind him, he wrapped my arms around his chest and pulled me near his ear, turning his head and talking so I could hear over the thunderous music.

"Let's not beat around the bush any longer, Edward. So, your place or mine?"

I was taken aback that this was happening so quickly but made a conscious choice to quiet the voices in my head for once and just do this without over thinking it. Knowing that I didn't want a repeat of the night before, I made a decision.

"Mine. Come on. Follow me."

Ten minutes later, we were pulling into my garage and I watched as he parked his beat up Mercedes, circa 1980s, behind my new Audi. His noisy engine was cut and the silence of the night rang in my ears. Closing the garage door, I quickly joined him by the front walk and took his hand to lead him into my house.

As we got to the door, I internally winced as I looked down and saw that I still hadn't removed the 'Whitlock-Cullen' doormat. Seth stepped on it leaving a wet imprint of his sole right over Jasper's name. After unlocking the door and opening it for Seth, I continued to look down before his voice pulled me back.

"So, do you rent? It's a really nice house? How can you afford this while you're in school?" His questions seemed to quickly fall out of his mouth.

"Actually, I own the house," I shared as I stepped through the front door and started to take off my shoes.

His jaw dropped open as he registered what I had said. "You mean … you mean that this … this house is yours?" he asked with astonishment, but when he saw that I was taking my shoes off, he quickly started to remove his.

I nodded and added, "I bought it before my junior year."

"Well, you have to have a roommate, right? I mean, that's how you pay for this. Right?"

"Are we really here to talk about my financial situation, or are we here to fuck, Seth?" I was surprised by how forward I suddenly was, but he had no right to start questioning how I could afford my home.

"Sorry, Edward. It's just that owning a house isn't something many people do where I come from. Renting is normal, even for people in their forties and fifties, so to see someone as young as you owning a house … well, it's surprising. That's all. I didn't mean to offend you."

"No, it's okay, Seth. I get it. Why don't you come in? The living room is right around the corner there," I directed. "What would you like to drink?"

"Water would be great." Heading to the kitchen, I poured ice-cold water and brought the glasses to the living room, setting them on the coffee table.

We both sat down on the leather couch, and I leaned in to him, kissing his red lips that I had admired at the club. He tasted fruity, and I couldn't help but moan into his mouth as my tongue traced his bottom lip. "Mmm. You taste good," I breathed out as I deepened our kiss, pushing him onto his back and lying between his awaiting thighs. He threaded his fingers into my hair and pulled, but I didn't like it. I grabbed his wrists, pinning them to the couch above his head as I continued to dominate the kiss.

After a few intense minutes of kissing, Seth pulled away, gasping for air. "Fuck, Edward. You sure know how to kiss."

"So I've been told," I smirked as I looked down at him. "I'm pretty good at some other things as well," I teased as I began trailing kisses down his neck and over the thin fabric of his shirt, stopping where it met his waistband. Running my nose along the top of his pants, I revealed the dark, russet skin of his abdomen and continued to expose his torso as my hands pushed the gauzy cotton up and over his head. Only then did I sit up and allow myself to ponder the canvas below me.

"Tell me, Seth. What do you want to happen tonight? Do you want me to suck you?" I asked as I smoothed my thumbs over the pebbled flesh of his dark nipples. "Maybe you'd like me to work that thick cock of yours in my hands." I teased his dick with my fingertips that slipped past his waistband and gave barely there touches to the head of his cock. "Or did you come here so I could fuck you? Hmmmm? Tell me what you want, Seth."

"I want you to fuck me, Edward. Please," he said, still attempting to catch his breath.

"Okay. Strip while I go get a condom. I'll be right back," I said as I headed to my room.

"Can't we fuck on your bed?" Seth's voiced carried into my room just as I opened my bedside table and I stopped for a moment, realizing that I had never brought a boy home to my house, let alone fucked anyone in my bed. Not even Jasper.

"I don't fuck in my bed," I said as I met his eyes again when I returned to the living room and removed my clothes. "It's nothing personal." Settling back onto the couch, I noticed that his cock was even bigger than I had estimated and I couldn't keep myself from staring. "Have you ever topped?" He shook his head. "Have you ever wanted to?"

"I like to bottom, but I've always been curious; I admit." As he continued to talk, I sat on the couch near his feet and started stroking the monster between his legs. "Not many guys would be willing to try. You know?"

"I can see why. I don't know many guys who could take something this thick or this long let alone putting the two together. You almost make me want to try." Seth's eyes brightened at my words and I smiled as I put the lube next to his hip. "Almost, I said." Seth laughed, and his dark eyes seemed so open and honest, entrusting me with what I was about to do.

Taking his thick cock into my mouth, I could barely fit my lips around him, so I licked around his head, making him nice and wet before I tried to take him deep. That was a joke, because even when he hit the back of my throat and I continued to relax, I still had a way to go to take him down to the base of his cock. His enjoyment wasn't diminished though, and his muted curses informed me that I was giving him pleasure. As I continued to run my mouth up and down his length, I used the lube to help me gain entry into his anus. I could tell he knew what he was doing, relaxing his muscles almost upon my contact and soon he was trying to fuck my face. Pulling away from him, I sat up on my knees and motioned with my hand for him to come toward me, making it obvious that I wanted him to suck me, which he readily did, making my cock hard for him.

He had a talented mouth but I pulled away from it when I was ready and rolled on the condom before sitting on my heels and rubbing the head of my cock against his slicked up opening. Scooting his hips down the couch and up my thighs so they were raised, I easily slid into his heat and started to press forward until I was buried in his lean body. He looked at me and nodded before I found my rhythm.

As I moved my hips, I felt Seth's fingers curl around my thighs, trying to direct how deep I should thrust into him and regulate the speed of my hips. Latching onto his wrists, I leaned forward and kissed him, once again restraining his hands. He squirmed away from the grip of my right hand, but I returned his wrist to the leather cushion as I fucked his tight ass. Turning his head to the side, his chest rose and fell as he took in deep breaths and freed them with a moan.

Sitting back, I wrapped my fingers around his thighs and watched his face as I focused on forming deep and long strokes with my hips, doing everything in my power to make sure that I was hitting his prostate with each and every thrust. When he started to lower his arms, he stopped himself and looked at me, returning his hands to the couch above his head. I smiled and nodded at him as I took his throbbing cock in my hand and started to stroke him, spreading the drops of liquid down his shaft that had oozed onto his stomach. His hips moved in small circles, only adding to the sensations I was bringing him and soon my hand was covered in his come as he emptied with each pump of my hips.

I stilled for a moment as he reached for his dick and quickly withdrew his hand from his overly sensitive flesh. His eyes met mine, signaling me to find my own release, which I quickly did. I reached for the towel that I had set on the coffee table and wiped up his stomach and my hand before I pulled out of him and discarded the used condom in the bathroom trash. When I returned, he was seated and pulling on his underwear and pants so I followed suit. Soon we were both dressed, and Seth walked to the front door and slipped on his shoes.

"Thanks, Edward. You're everything I'd heard you were … and more."

I was stunned by what he said, not even sure if I had heard correctly. "What did you say?"

"The moment I saw you, I knew you were Edward, but you're more gorgeous than people described. Everyone down at Eclipse has talked about Edward for months and how he never showed up anymore. One night people started talking about the myth of Edward and I listened. It isn't a fucking myth."

"Okay." I was at a loss and had no idea how to respond to that. Was that really how I was perceived and apparently discussed, as a … myth? I shook my head ever so slightly as I tried to understand how "Edward, the relationship guy" was seen so differently at the club.

"Anyway, thanks for tonight," he innocently chirped as he leaned in and gave me a soft kiss on the mouth. "Night." And he was gone.

#

I couldn't sleep that night, tossing and turning in my bed.

I couldn't get the visions to leave.

It was as if I'd been in that room with Jasper when that oaf fucked him. I could feel the way the air changed when they moved toward each other. The way Jasper's tender lips caressed Felix's hard mouth as they kissed, his tongue darting out. The way they undressed each other and trailed their fingertips across firm muscles. The way Felix took my Jasper's cock into his mouth. It didn't belong there.

"FUCK!" I screamed into the silent night and felt no relief so I repeated it as my fists hit the mattress beside me.

Again and again and again.

The brunette and Seth were supposed to help me move on. I wasn't supposed to be lying in bed at two in the morning thinking about how my ex betrayed me. Fuck it.

I drove. I always seemed to drive when I was angry. I had no idea why it soothed me, but it did … except … not that night. Music didn't work. Thinking was useless. Sitting in silence and not allowing my mind to drift was impossible.

When I got home I walked to the front door and grabbed the cast metal doormat and stuck it behind a rusty shovel in the garage. The last thing I needed was another daily reminder of him. I had enough.

Sitting on the couch, I drew without thought, mindless sketches that I barely looked at as I put my pencil to paper, often focusing on the wall across from me instead. It was the ultimate exercise in free association or, perhaps, blind free association. I didn't want to see what was coming out of my fingertips because I knew how it felt, and I knew it had to get out of me.

After hours of drawing and seeing the sky lighten outside the windows, my body finally gave up and I crashed on the couch.

Sunday, I avoided the school studio and couldn't find it in myself to go to my studio. I couldn't go anywhere that would take me back to the place I had been before I slept. Where I ended up was the conservatory at Volunteer Park, allowing myself to get lost in the delicate beauty of the flowers and the solid strength of the trees. The earthy scent of soil surrounded me and seemed to soothe me, if only for a few hours.

I sketched most of the day, and it had nothing to do with school or my senior show or work or Jasper. It was only about me, because it never was. Everything I did was with someone or something else in mind, but not that day.

When I woke up the next morning, I felt somehow refreshed, even though it had taken forever to get to sleep again. I didn't look refreshed, however. In fact, I looked like hell with dark circles forming under my eyes and a sickly pallor. After a few cups of coffee, I went on campus and was finally able to complete a canvas I had been working on for what seemed like months. It was a piece I had started back when things were still good between Jasper and me. After our demise, the canvas tormented me, so I was glad to have it done.

As I painted with alizarin and sepia, the colors seems to awaken something inside of me, allowing me to see my actions differently. I had allowed that boy to suck me in that dark, dank room to feel excitement and danger, but that wasn't really what I wanted once I finally felt it. I fucked Seth to feel powerful, and while I felt that way for the few minutes I was inside him, the moment he left, my sense of power dissolved. I wasn't in control of my life at all, and I had to find a way to get that back. Somehow.

When I called Riley to have dinner with me, it was with the intention of talking to him about my life, to see if he'd help me figure things out. I had dated him for about six months, and we had been friends prior to that, so I felt that he would have a unique perspective on what made me tick.

As I was getting ready that night, I couldn't help but feel as if something was off. I wasn't able to place my finger on it, but something didn't feel right. Nonetheless, I dressed in a dark blue button down shirt and a pair of jeans. Just as I was ready to leave, there was a knock on the door. I had told Riley I'd meet him at the restaurant and wasn't expecting anyone so I assumed it was probably a solicitor. The last person I expected to see on the other side of the door was Jasper.

He took a deep breath and started to talk, offering a trite apology to make himself feel better, to purge his guilty consciousness. I didn't allow him to finish before I slammed the door in his face.

As the breeze from the closing door hit my face, so did his scent, and I was nearly brought to my knees by how powerfully it brought back memories and feelings. How could his essence affect me so? It was warm and sweet and earthy, reminding me of comfort and safety. I no longer wanted to see Riley or go out, so I called and cancelled.

The next day I decided to stay home and lounge around in my pajamas all day. I drank way too much coffee and ate only to stave off the shakes, trying to occupy my empty life with as much as I could. Music played on my iPod while a movie ran in the background. I was working on several small projects, one on the computer, one in a sketchbook, and also a comic strip. Numerous programs were open on the computer and I would randomly chat with people when I saw they were online. The few seconds of silence between songs was even too much emptiness, and I considered reformatting my iPod to play songs back to back without the deafening pause.

My phone ringing tore my attention away from my computer for a few seconds as I answered it.

"Edward. Hi Sweetie. I'm thinking of coming over this afternoon. Would that be okay?"

"Sure Mom, but I have to warn you I'm kinda on a caffeine high and I'm not really sure that I'm going to be that great of company because I'm doing all sorts of things right now but if you wanna come I'll be here all day. Oh, by the way, I'm not dressed, so pajamas it is. I have no desire to put on actual clothes, okay?" Words tumbled from my lips and I couldn't slow them, even when I tried.

"No problem. I'm coming alone and pajamas are fine with me. Please stop sipping the coffee though before I have to hospitalize you," she joked. "Oh and eat a slice of bread or a few crackers, but not too much. I'm bringing a treat from The Confectional."

"When you comin'?"

"In the next hour, if that works in your schedule."

"Mmhmm. See ya."

I was buzzing, my foot bouncing at my crossed ankles but I got back to work and the hour flew by. Gradually, I felt my shakiness settle and my typical self return. When I answered the door, my mother handed me a pastry box and set two coffee cups on the table so she could remove her shoes. "Decaf for you, by the way," she winked. I moved to lift the lid and was reprimanded for trying to peek before she was ready to reveal her gift.

"Let's go into the dining room. We'll need two plates and forks as well as napkins, if you will." I quickly followed her instructions and joined her with the requested items at the birdseye maple table where she had started to open the box. She pulled out two cylinders about two inches tall and wrapped in sepia and gold paper. Setting one on each plate, she slid a plate in front of me and laid a silver fork on the white napkin that she had folded into a triangle. Closing the box lid, she moved it aside and turned to me, looking as if she wanted to speak.

"Raspberry, white chocolate cheesecake," she said. I finally averted my gaze and studied what she put on my plate. "It's delicious," she said as she started to remove the protective paper from around the tiny cake, so I did the same.

"They're beautiful," I said, slightly confused as to why my mother would bring cheesecake over to me in the middle of the afternoon out of the blue. Shaking my head, I refocused on the cake and noticed how sturdy the tiny confection was with it's dark chocolate crust, the cream cheese and whole raspberries mixed together making a random pattern in the dense cake, and a white and pink topping that had zigzags striped through. It really was a picturesque confection.

"I love this place; I must confess," my mother snickered, and I rolled my eyes at her pun before she finally allowed her fork to penetrate the thick cake. As she pulled the fork to her mouth, she stopped, looked at her forkful and then turned the cheesecake toward me where she had removed her bite. "Look at that," she gestured with her head and I looked. "I think this is my favorite flavor that they make. White chocolate isn't something I really eat on it's own, but combined with things, it's great. Somehow, other flavors help cut the sweetness of the white chocolate and make it more palatable. Raspberries are like that too; their tartness can overwhelm. But when you put the two together, they make the perfect pairing."

Finally taking a bite, I closed my eyes and felt the creamy texture against my tongue. While I could taste the two flavors, I had a hard time separating one from the other on my palate. The cream cheese just added to the experience as well as the cookie crust.

"This is phenomenal, Mom."

"I knew you'd like this. Somehow, raspberries and white chocolate were just meant to be together; wouldn't you say?"

I continued to take slow bites, savoring the flavor and texture on my tongue as my mother watched me. "I'm not sure I can think of another flavor that tastes as good with raspberries or white chocolate. Dark chocolate perhaps, but we have that at the foundation here, so it all works."

"It works," she nodded and continued to eat, taking occasional sips of the coffee in her cup.

"So, what brought this on?"

"What? Can't a mom bring by a delicious treat to share with her son?"

"Uh, sure," I said, suddenly feeling very unsure, in fact. "It just seems a little odd for some reason." I took my last bite and savored it before clearing my palate with coffee.

She had finished as well and pushed our plates toward the pastry box so they were out of the way. Reaching across the table, she took my hands and placed them palm down on the table in front of her before she ghosted her fingertips over my knuckles.

"Honestly, Edward, that chocolate cookie foundation is your friendship with Jasper," she said in a wary tone.

I pulled my hands away and shook my head.

"And your flav—"

I cut her off, unwilling to listen to her strange analogy of my relationship with Jasper being related to cheesecake. "Come on, Mom. This is ridiculous."

"Perhaps, but I had to try. Plus, we both got cheesecake," she smiled, and I couldn't help but return one. "It is very hard to see you aching like this, Edward."

"I'm not aching, Mom."

"I know what I see, love. I see a very hurt and angry man trying to make sense of the world. In fact, it's the same thing that you saw in Jasper a few months ago and stood by helplessly as you saw him fade away. I won't let you fade Edward, especially when Jasper is finally starting to come back."

My eyes shot up to her. I wanted to ask her how he was doing, but I resisted. Whether it was out of stubbornness or a sense that I had no right to ask how he was once I wrote him off, I'm not sure, so I lowered my eyes to the table and took another drink.

"Yes, I'm angry." I paused and she waited. "And I'm hurt."

"Just talk to him, Edward. This wasn't some passionate romance that started from nothing. You were friends for seven years. Seven years, Edward. That's a very long time, and to throw that away … it just seems like such a shame. All that Jasper wants to do is have a few moments of your time, so he can explain."

"See Mom, right there is the problem. He thinks he can come in here with his apologies and I'll forgive him like I have every other time. Don't you see that I've lost myself in this relationship?"

"I see that you think you've lost yourself, but I think you and Jasper have become so mixed together that your flavors are hard to separate. Perhaps it's good that you're apart for while so you can find out if you're a raspberry or white chocolate." I couldn't help the laughter that was released from my chest as my mother continued on her cheesecake metaphor.

"Fine, laugh at your silly mother," she joined in the joyful sound and reached for my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Please reconsider talking to Jasper. That's all I'm asking. There are four more cheesecakes in the box, so put that in the fridge." She stood and took the dirty dishes to the kitchen sink. "I've tormented you enough for one day, so I'll go."

"You don't torment me, Mom. Is this what you meant when you said you'd occasionally force an issue with Dad? Is that what you're doing to me right now?"

She smiled and brushed her thumb over my cheekbone. "You're acting a lot like your father right now, I had to try something."

After she left, I refrigerated the cheesecakes and tried to forget about what she had said. But, the damn woman had planted a seed in my head, and all I could think about was the foundation of friendship Jasper and I had. Running my fingers through my hair, I tried pulling the thought through the strands, but it was a useless motion.

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and I opened it to reveal Jasper.

"I fucked up so badly, and I know that I hurt you so much by pulling away. Please allow me," I didn't want to allow him anything at that moment, so I slammed the door shut. "…the opportunity to explain what happened," I heard sailing through the door as he raised his voice. I had to chuckle at his tenacity. He certainly wanted me to hear him.

The next night, I was ready for him and opened the door before his knuckles finished rapping against the wood for the third time. "You should just go away, Jasper. I don't want to hear it." I watched his face, studying it as I saw that he somehow looked different. Something in his eyes made me listen.

"I can't go away, Edward. You're my best friend, and I owe you an explanation for what happened. You deserve that."

I owe you an explanation. For some reason that sat better with me than the things he had said the previous days, but I still wasn't ready, so I shut the door.

He did owe me an explanation, but I didn't know what it would take for me to finally give him a chance to do that. So much anger and doubt filled me that I wasn't sure I would ever be able to believe a word he said.

So many secrets.

So many omissions.

It all added up to lies to me. Also, I wasn't sure if I was ready to let go of the fact that he had gone back to _Broke Straight Dudes_ and then come home that same night and…

I didn't even want to think about it let alone allow him time to explain it. There was also the physical violence, and I wasn't sure I would ever feel completely safe around him. Yet, the mere scent of him the other day made me feel safe. He was like my personal siren, calling me, encouraging me to sail toward my demise. Just when I thought I had a sense of my emotions, he pulled me off course and I felt lost again.

Somehow, I had to harden myself to get past the feelings of longing that were sneaking into my … life. Existence was more like it. Nothing I had done since I asked Jasper to move out could be characterized as living. Surviving, taking one day at a time, putting one foot in front of the other, walking through hell—whatever trite saying you wanted to use. I was doing anything but living, and the few moments I had tried to live, I stumbled and fell flat on my face.

I felt completely and utterly alone.

Stepping out into the chilled night, I walked to my flowerbed in the backyard that I had started late last fall. Green was peeking through the compacted earth. How could life emerge after such cold and the prolonged darkness of winter? Still there it was before me, pushing through the hardened soil with nature's perfectly created leaves that could pierce through the frozen surface and seek out the sunlight that they need to thrive.

I knelt down and looked at a green spear, noticing the striated leaves and subtle blush on the tips, as if the plant had to bleed to emerge, and the shape of the leaves, like arms cradling the precious bloom still deep within it's womb. The moonlight was bright, making all the colors of the night vivid and rich, a bounty to look at, but I couldn't pull my gaze from the tiny leaves, planted side by side.

My phone ringing in the house brought me out of my thoughts, but I was unable to reach it before it went to voicemail. It was my mom, wanting to check on me, worrying about me and making sure I knew she loved me. I chuckled as I deleted the message and headed for my room, dropping my clothes in the laundry basket before I crawled into the soft sheets. Pulling the book off my side table, I read until I fell asleep. I awoke around four and squinted at the clock trying to make out the numbers without putting on my glasses before I fell back into a fitful sleep.

_I stood on the shoreline of the creek, my childhood home behind me, the banks barely holding the water at bay as the winter snowmelt made its way down from the mountains to the small river in my backyard. Freezing cold water splashed up and hit my cheeks, but I ignored it, turning my body and sitting beside the rushing rapids with my back to a tree. As the roar sounded in my ear, I focused my attention on the soil on my left, noticing how moss and grass was starting to grow. Brushing my fingers over the tender shoots, I took in their clean scent, finding contentment there in that moment._

_My eyes closed, and I lost myself in the feel beneath my fingers, the whisper of the breeze that licked my cheeks and the heady scent of blooms opening somewhere on the forest floor._

_I lost my sense of balance and started to fall into the quickly moving river. Before I knew what was happening, I felt strong arms reach for me, catching and saving me from freezing in the torrent of waves._

_"Shhhhh," he said in my ear as he settled behind me, becoming my support rather than the tree. My skin was still reacting to his breath when I felt his lips embrace the skin on my neck and his tongue sweep up behind my ear._

_His arms remained wrapped around my chest even though I was no longer at risk of falling in the creek, and I threaded my fingers between his, feeling the tops of his well used hands. Down my stomach our joined right hands moved until he found me, the heat of his skin easily penetrating the denim and causing my body to respond. As his hand moved up and down my length, his breathing increased. He was obviously aroused by the sight of our hands working together to bring me pleasure, and I could feel his rigid cock pressing hard into my lower back._

_His breath washed over me—over my skin—warming me and wrapping me in an earthy haze as everything around me blurred except for my hand wrapped over his, our fingers interlaced as they moved together. My left hand reached behind me, searching for wheaten curls to wrap around or an unshaven face to stroke—anything of his to touch as I was brought to my climax._

_But he was gone, and I was left alone, leaning against a tree with the river far off in the distance. I could hear it but could barely make out the bank from where I sat. Looking up, I saw that our tree in our sacred space was my support, and I stood, looking at the moss-covered bark. When I ran my fingers over the damp, silky moss that grew on the tree, I felt small depressions against the bark but not in the places where the bark had fissured and cracked. They were on the surface and appeared to form a pattern. I moved to scrape the layer of moss away so I could reveal the pattern and felt myself falling hard and fast as if the earth had suddenly dropped out from beneath my feet._

I woke up drenched in sweat; my sheets twisted around my legs as if they had been searching for something. As much as I expected myself to be painfully hard, I looked down and saw that I was nowhere near firm. My breathing was shallow and took some time to calm, so I unwrapped my legs from the sheets and stood in a warm shower, washing off the sweat and terror of my dream.

As I drank coffee, I tried not to think of my dream, not to feel the things that it had made me feel, not to see the things connect that I knew were related. Instead, I turned a blind eye and prepared for my day.

I got to the studio fairly early, hoping to get started on a new project, one that I had been bothered about … in a good way. Something told me, that my recurring dreams would eventually have to be put down on paper or canvas.

Jasper worked quietly beside me, deeply engrossed in his project. My work went well, and when my friend Pete asked if I wanted to grab lunch with him, I was glad to have a diversion, once again, from my thoughts.

After we bought our sandwiches and sat at a small cafe table, Pete leaned over and asked what was happening between Jasper and me. "I'd really rather not talk about it right now, Pete. Jasper and I have a lot of work to do for our show and a lot of decisions to make together. Let's just say there's a lot of shit that could potentially get in the way of that, but it's my hope that we can work through it civilly."

He nodded and took a large bite of his sub and chewed for what seemed like forever before he changed the subject to a professor who seemed to be on a tirade this semester. I sighed in relief, knowing we had moved on.

When I returned to the studio, Jasper was gone and his supplies put away. I looked to see if he had left a note or something on my workspace or his, but he hadn't. Every day that I had seen him on campus, he had engaged me in some sort of conversation. That day he had said nothing, made no eye contact, didn't observe me when he thought I wasn't watching. It was as if I hadn't existed to him.

#

After a long studio day, I threw my bag by the front door, ordered Chinese, and watched a movie as I sprawled on the couch. It took very little for me to fall asleep that night.

In the morning, I was inspired to work on a panel of _Nathaniel & Aiden_. Working at the _Times_ opened my eyes to the realities of editorial cartooning, and I wanted a more relaxed work environment. Hell, I wanted to work in a studio in my own backyard, just like Charles Shultz. I already had the studio.

Retrieving my bag from the entryway, I headed to my studio and settled on the Barcelona daybed with my bag. Pulling it open, I found my Moleskine® Storyboard notebook and began to sketch out my latest idea in the preprinted cells, making notes in the margin. When my pencil lead broke, I reached into my bag for my sharpener and felt the buttery softness of leather. Odd. I didn't have anything leather in my bag yesterday.

Peering into my messenger bag, I saw a dark brown lashed sketchbook and withdrew it, suspecting I had mistakenly put it in my bag as I cleaned up the day prior. I didn't know anyone who used that style of sketchbook that had been in the studio, so I flipped the book to determine which side was the front and unwrapped the leather lash. It was obvious which side was the cover once I turned it over, as a large ampersand was pressed into the soft, rich leather.

As I barely opened the book, a square envelope slipped into my lap and I reached for it. It was a CD with Jasper's beautiful print placed carefully around the circular window on the envelope, revealing more of his writing on the white disc inside. I turned the envelope around and around as I read his words that spiraled.

_Edward, please listen to this. It is one song. It reminds me of you. It may have been intended for a different kind of relationship, but every time I hear it, my thoughts go to you and all you've given me. ~Jasper_

On the disc there were only a few words.

_Poe, "If You Were Here"_

I walked to the stereo and put the disc in, standing there for several beats before I finally hit play and returned to the bed. The small space was filled with the voice of an old man and a small child speaking and I furrowed my brow, but then the sweet, gentle voice of a woman soared across the room, the beauty hitting me square in the chest. Every so often the man and child would weave into the song, but when Poe's voice returned, I felt my body relax. It was her message that I listened to.

Silence penetrated the tiny room after she was done singing and I sat there watching the new leaves on the trees sway in the gentle breeze. My hand jerked on the bed beside me, brushing against the leather sketchbook, and I looked down, tracing the ampersand with my finger before setting it in my lap. Tenuously, I opened the cover, revealing the expensive paper inside and more of Jasper's writing.

_Edward,_

_Words are very hard right now, for both of us, not only to speak but also to hear. We have another way, my friend. We have a better way. A way that brought us together. A way that allowed us to grow. A way that revealed our emotions. A way that bound us to each other. Perhaps we should start here without spoken words, without needing to listen with our ears._

_I will start anywhere with you as long as we start. Your friendship is the single most important relationship I have had in my life, and I desperately want that back. Perhaps we need to begin with scribbles or stick figures, but I started with something more fitting for us._

_Always yours,_

_Jasper_

I didn't move for several minutes as I reread his words.

I couldn't move.

With a deep breath, I steeled myself and found the courage to turn the page, revealing the image I had been dreaming about for months. Our spot.

But this wasn't a simple sketch even though the creek was running between bushes and shrubs, our tree was in the foreground, and my tree house was off to the right. No. It was a typographical study, and each and every line of the overall sketch was, in fact, comprised of words. Words he wanted to say to me. Words I wouldn't listen too. I started to read his random thoughts that made up our tree, twisting and turning to reveal the pattern in the bark.

"Friendship. It starts as a small seed that is nurtured and begins to grow even through the early trials of that relationship. Ours simply grew. There were no hiccups because we always had art. We could always share our feelings through our pencils or charcoals. It was so refreshing to show you a piece and see understanding pass through your eyes. You got it. You got me. You knew me. I knew you. We make each other better. You have always known me better than anyone, reading my feelings, helping me find a way to use them to make something." A series of words trailed around the tree, spiraling toward the center, ending with friendship, home, partner, us, and love.

Love was in the center of the tree, right in the spot that I reached for before I awoke from my dream. There were so many words to look at, to be studied and revealed and none of them were written without deeper meaning. The placement, font and context were all very well thought out. He must have put hours into this.

In my tree house, he spoke of our childhood together and the way that I was always able to help him relax. He called me his panacea, his stress reliever. I couldn't help the wry laugh that escaped at that characterization.

The grass and shrubberies spoke of seemingly random things, but with further study, I found that all the words related to things he loved about me. He wrote about my eye color in the grass over and over, using every imaginable word for green that he could think of. Various places he spoke of my skin, tender places that I knew he liked to kiss, and hidden spots on my body that only he knew how to please. In the shrubs he talked of my hair, the color, the texture, the smell. "Mint. Fresh. Clean." Apparently I was a minty-fresh, clean-smelling guy. I raised my brow and smirked at that realization. It was as if the quickly growing things in the drawing were the parts of me that he rapidly fell in love with after our first kiss. The things that never had a chance to fade with our sudden fall.

The water caught my attention and kept it the longest. It was the water that he used as his confessional, words waiting to be washed away in the current by my forgiveness. Flowing script, emulating the water in the creek told me all the things I wouldn't allow him to tell me at the door.

"I held onto secrets ever-so tightly. Words I did not speak hurt you worse than a knife. I pushed you away, time and time again … so far away when I should have pulled you close. Spoken to you. Cried to you. Allowed you to see my heartache. To help me. To free me. I hurt you. I lashed out. I said words that were not meant for you, but I am sure, now, that you thought they were about you. They were about me. Never you. I was careless. I was insensitive. And then I was afraid I would do it again. I withdrew. I was lost. I was a fool. I betrayed you. I failed you. I failed me. I failed us. I am sorry."

What had I done? Who had I become that I wouldn't allow Jasper to tell me all that was in his heart?

I left—abandoning the studio, abandoning my art—and walked away from who I had become and went in search of who I wanted to be. I ended up in the house, no longer running away but not really knowing what to do, so I cooked.

In the kitchen, I stood mindlessly chopping vegetables, throwing them into the chicken stock that was warming on the cooktop. When I brought out the onions, the tears streamed down my face, but they weren't from the noxious gases. That may have started them but certainly didn't finish them. I allowed myself to silently cry and chop until I was done. After adding the rest of the ingredients, I allowed Jasper's favorite stew to simmer on low to allow the flavors to blend. I headed out to grab myself a hazelnut latte, needing something to raise my spirits after the afternoon I'd just waded through.

After parking my car, I began walking toward B&O Espresso, and just as I rounded the corner, I spotted Jasper and the dark haired girl from the coffeehouse that so often helped us. I cocked my head as I watched them talking and laughing as if they were old friends, but I had never seen them do more than have playful banter when he would order. It was what happened next that took me off guard.

Jasper reached for her hand and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek before they walked down the street with her playfully swinging their joined hands between them. I could do nothing but stand and watch as their bodies got smaller. They eventually disappeared into a storefront a few blocks down.

_Raspberry and white chocolate._

Perhaps it wasn't what I thought it was. Jasper's gay. He had been very positive about that. It couldn't have been what it looked like. He kissed her on the cheek, but there was the smallest piece of doubt that slipped in.

_We make each other better._

I skipped the coffee and climbed back into my car. The radio knew exactly how I was feeling, playing "Where I Stood" by Missy Higgins. I sat there listening until the song ended. I simply couldn't drive until I heard it all.

Tears obscured my focus, but I had been very unfocused even without the tears. It was time to look around and see the whole picture instead of trying to make sense of the little pieces I had been intent on looking at.

When I walked back into the studio several minutes later, I sat at my desk and opened the leather sketchbook to Jasper's sketch for just a moment before I turned the page and put my pencil to the silky paper.

* * *

**Edit: 3/5/2012**


	28. Gravity

**Gravity**

I thought about them over the next several days whether I wanted to or not. The ease with which he laughed and talked to her, the way he reached for her hand, the way his lips pressed into her cheek. They looked so happy together, but I knew it wasn't what it had appeared to be. But he was happy and smiling and laughing with someone besides me. It made me jealous.

Just when I thought my wounds had healed, I felt them split open again, and the anguish returned even more forcefully than it had before.

But this time there was no anger.

Only raw pain.

Thick and fast, my tears fell onto my shirt, soaking it through and bathing my ache in saltwater. It hurt like hell, but it was cleansing.

I avoided school, opting to stay home eating comfort food and allowing myself to feel all I had shut out. The fear crept in the quickest, easily followed by the doubt. Last and most unexpectedly was the relief. How could I feel relief? I eventually figured it out. I felt relief from _feeling_ for brief moments as my pain orbited and was hidden from the scorching sun. It would happen when I was able to lose myself on walks or when I cooked, but soon, it would flare again and the flames would begin to burn in my belly.

The strongest emotion, the one that held throughout and stayed with me long after I had fallen asleep, was loss. When I dreamed, no more was the faceless man present. He had left me alone, and I knew why. He had never really been faceless or a stranger; it had been Jasper all along, and I had been subconsciously terrified of losing him. Yet, it happened through my own words and actions. Without feeling, I had pushed him away from me. Just as in my dreams, it was my actions that led to his disappearance.

I had lost the one and only man I had ever loved, but that wasn't the only reason I cried. I wept because our friendship was eternally changed. It would never be the same if it could even be salvaged, and that was all he wanted, to have me as his friend.

He knew all that I held in my soul. So many of the things I shared with him were only for him. He knew my secrets, the good and the bad: that I loved standing outside in the summer amidst the fireflies and that, even though I tried with all my might, there were just some things I couldn't be open-minded about.

What I missed more than anything were the quiet moments where nothing needed to be said or done. The peace he gave me had never been present with anyone else. What I would have given to feel him slip under the sheets long after I had fallen asleep and wrap his long arms around my waiting body. My limbs always knew when he had joined me. It was as if my entire soul sighed in relief at his touch, knowing I had safely planted my feet on the earth once again.

He called me his stress reliever. Perhaps he had been mine and I didn't realize it. My body knew before I did and it was begging for him to come home.

Each night I stared at the leather journal, studying what he had drawn and re-reading his words. I found comfort there and struggled to find the way to communicate what I wanted in the way that would make the most sense, but it was fucking hard to do that when conflict was now at the center of my heart. Yes. No. Love. Hate. Comfort. Fear.

Then came the silence.

One day it all stopped. Disappeared. I wasn't left with apathy. I was just left. Empty.

That was the day Emmett called and forced me to go to the gym with him. Apparently it didn't matter to him that I had just told him "No." In his typical style, he was at my door five minutes after I hung up the phone. He had reserved the racquetball court and needed me to go with him. Practically packing my gym bag for me, he walked with me until I slid into his passenger seat. I watched the houses pass by the car window as he drove, and we arrived without me realizing the route he had taken.

In the locker-room we changed, and he didn't make any of his usual jokes about me "sneaking peeks at his junk." We dressed in silence, and I followed him with my racket in hand to the court and slipped on my eyewear. The door shut with a thud that I could feel in my chest and ears due to the change in air pressure in the enclosed room. He said nothing to me but served the hollow, blue ball, which I easily returned.

Not having played for several years, I was surprised how my technique returned. My years of tennis lessons probably had something to do with that. Muscle memory.

Like my muscles remembering the feel of Jasper even though I hadn't touched him in weeks … months. The silky caress of his tongue across mine. The way his fingers felt interlaced with my own. How he made my skin tingle as his eyes danced across my body.

The sun started burning me again.

I put my hand up to halt the game, having to pull my goggles off to clear them of the moisture that had quickly built up when my tears started once more. It happened so easily now as if I had no control over my tear ducts. I turned my back to Emmett as I did so, wiping my forehead with my arm, trying to disguise the real reason I had stopped.

Slipping my glasses back on, I bounced the ball in my left hand and my peripheral vision picked up the few spectators that watched us through the Plexiglas wall. My serve was hard and fast. Emmett missed it, so it bounced off the back wall and flew around the court before he trapped it. With each serve, I put more and more effort into it, practically throwing my body into the tiny rubber ball. He returned it, and we volleyed back and forth. Each time I hit the ball with my racket, I felt a release. Soon, I was letting guttural sounds fly from my throat as I struck the ball. Something about it felt so good. My father would be glad to know I was working my anger out.

Emmett held up his hand, asking for a break as he rested his palms on his knees, trying to catch his breath. I walked around the front of the court and noticed several people still watching us. My brows furrowed wondering what the fuck was so interesting. Emmett noticed my gaze and looked back to see what had upset me.

"I think they're just surprised you're keeping up with me. I play several times a week, and people seem to think that I'm good or something. The reality … most of these fuckers suck. Why the hell do you think I asked you to come and play?" He released a boisterous laugh and clapped me on the shoulder. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. He looked to the clock hanging on the wall outside the transparent wall and then said, "We have about twenty minutes left, but I need to fucking sit. Come on." Sitting against the wall on the hardwood floor, he patted the spot next to him. The crowd dissipated.

I played with my racket, spinning it by the handle and moving the strings to form perfect squares across the entire head. Emmett retied his shoelaces and guzzled water from his bottle as his breathing became less labored.

"How you doin'?" he finally asked and slowly turned his head to look at me.

I shrugged, not committing to a firm answer.

"Come on, Edward. You've got to talk to someone." Draping his arms over his bent knees, he looked me straight in the eyes. I tried to ignore him, but I simply couldn't.

"I'm fine. I'm not good. I'm not bad. I'm fine, okay?"

"Right," he said, his voice betraying his disbelief.

Taking in a deep breath, I slowly released it as my lips puffed out from its pressure. Softly, almost under my breath, I asked, "Have you seen him?"

"Yep," he quickly answered. "I see him nearly everyday. He's living with Rose although I'm sure you knew that already." I nodded and looked at the floor. "He's gained weight. Rose is practically force feeding him, but he's starting to get pissed at her insistence that he count all his calories." He laughed, but I knit my brows together. I didn't like that he was being forced to do anything even if it was something he needed to do. I sighed and felt Emmett look over at me. "He's really doing a lot better, Edward."

My shoelaces were more interesting than they should have been as I fingered the woven fabric.

"But he misses you," he said in a near whisper as if it was a secret, and I could no longer look at my shoes. "He tries to hide it, but I can see it. He'll leave the room when I reach for Rose. I try not to, but sometimes I forget, and then he gets up and leaves. Anyway, I thought you should know that. In fact, I don't think he'll ever be over you, man. He dreams about you."

"What do you mean?"

"I hear him at night sometimes. He calls out your name in his sleep. That's all I've ever been able to make out." He shrugged and said, "I know I shouldn't listen, but I'm worried about you guys." He stopped and turned his body to face mine, making sure he had eye contact before he continued. "Now, honestly Edward, how are you?"

I looked around our enclosed space and debated if I wanted to tell him anything at all, but my mouth started before my brain. "I'm lost." I admitted the most frightening thing that I could possibly tell him. "Please Emmett, don't say anything to him. I don't want him to worry about me, especially if he's finally doing better."

"I won't. He doesn't know I'm here or seeing you."

"How's his art? Is he working? Inspired?" It was the thing I had been struggling with, lack of creativity. Nothing seemed to be getting me past the hump, and it was scary.

"Honestly, I think that's the one thing he's pouring himself into. If he didn't have that, I'm not sure how he'd be doing. He spends hours at the studio on the weekends. Even after an entire day working, the minute he gets done eating his perfectly balanced meal that Rose has made," he snickered, "he pulls out his sketchbook and draws 'til his eyes nearly close."

I remembered that level of creativity in him. When he was inspired, he threw himself into his work. I felt myself smile at the memory. To be around him during those times was amazing. He wasn't manic, but that would be the closest way to describe it to other people. I understood it because I went there at times, too. When it happened, I wanted to jump on that wave and ride it as long as I could because eventually it would dry up. But I could come up with some amazing work while it lasted. I was glad he was riding the wave.

I looked up at the clock and Emmett's eyes followed. Our time was nearly done. "Hey, how about we do this again? You keep me on my toes and your backhand is wicked. What do you say?"

Turning my head, I smiled at his dimpled face. "Sure Emmett. I'd be glad to play. It's a good way to work out my aggression." He nodded, and we headed to the locker room to clean up before he dropped me at my house.

That afternoon I sat for hours working on ideas for the journal but struggled to find a way to communicate my confusion of feelings, so I gave up. Yet, something must have clicked for me when I spoke to Emmett because I was thinking more clearly about my actions. I knew I couldn't continue the charade I'd been playing.

Jasper knew I was hurt and angry, and no matter how I tried to appear indifferent when I saw him, it was obvious. He had known me for too many years to be fooled by my cool facade.

Yet, what he thought I was so upset about wasn't what pained me. He felt my reaction was related to our argument in the studio and the scuffle that ensued. Sure, I had reasons to be angry about that, but in reality, that was nothing compared to what I was really reacting to.

Thunder clapped, bringing me out of my musings, and I decided to move to the studio to enjoy the rainstorm. A cleansing rain might wash away my creative blocks. I needed rebirth.

As I unlocked the studio, I was flooded with memories, both good and bad. I had hardly been in this room, unable to stand the visions that seemed to flash through my mind when I passed the threshold. It seemed like a lifetime ago that this had been a happy place. It had been our place.

When my mother helped me design the building, it had been with both Jasper and me in mind. We knew we'd use this as our workspace not only throughout college but also long afterward. Neither of us had any intention of moving away from Seattle if we could find work in the city. We even planned that, when he got married and had kids, we'd continue working together in this space. This was our home, so we created a space that fit both of our needs, and we made sure it was one we could work in together. When we got romantically involved, I figured the space would become what it had been prior to Christmas: not only a space to work but also a place to connect. It didn't feel right to not have him in there; now, it was empty.

Sitting on the Barcelona daybed, I rested my back against the wall and stared out the large windows as raindrops streamed past. I had no reason to be in the studio at that moment. I had no work, no creative spark … nothing. I just wanted to be there.

As always, the smell took me over: pencils and leather. It was the most grounding scent that I knew, aside from cloves. It made me feel centered. Looking down at my hand, I watched as my fingers caressed the squares of hide that had been sewn together to form the upholstery. The feel of the material on my skin was soothing. This had been his bed for months, and this space had slowly become his as he pulled away from me. Rather than trying to draw him out, I simply left him alone, waiting for when he was ready to come and talk to me. I'm not sure that would have ever happened.

Once again, it was money, but this time, it wasn't a small amount. I wondered how much he truly owed and why he didn't at least speak to me about it. There had to have been some way that I could've helped him: loans, paying the bills myself, talking to a lawyer about bringing a civil suit against Jessica or Mike. We could have talked about those things and found some sort of solution. It made me angry that he blocked me out of his life again, trying to solve everything on his own. I sounded like a broken record, even to myself.

Shifting my hips, I lay down on the bolster pillow at the head of the bed and studied the wall where his art had previously hung. I could tell where it had been and not because the silver nails still protruded from the wall. No, I knew that his abstract had hung closest to the adjoining wall, right above my head and that his still life study of apples had been beside it. A sketch of me had been between two of my pieces that remained on the wall and above my feet had hung a typographical study of the letter W. I hadn't realized that I'd miss those pieces once he moved out because I thought they'd always remain. Not that I could have foreseen it, but I chided myself for not examining his art more, for walking past the pieces and simply taking their presence for granted. Guilt knotted in my gut but I tried to swallow it away.

Drawing my eyes away from the art, I looked above my head at the bare expanse of wall at the head of the daybed. The lighting of the room must have been just right because, when I sat up to examine something, it disappeared. What I saw appeared to be handprints over three feet apart on the wall. I had no idea what could have caused it, and as I lay beneath the marks, my brows bunched as I tried to make sense of them.

Oil. They were caused by the oils on my hands from the night Jasper pressed me into the wall and fucked me hard like I begged him to. It had been raining that night too, the light of the day quickly dissipating, and he put so much effort into giving me what I wanted that he became weakened and needed to lay down. I remembered telling him that I had him covered, letting him know that I'd take care of him, and I meant it, in every sense of the word. He was so precious to me, and although I couldn't physically see the mental anguish he was going through until it was too late, I would have supported him and relieved his weary soul, just as I had his drained body.

The room had too many fucking memories, and it was no longer serving its purpose as a creative or relaxing space. It had been hijacked by moments of pleasure that now taunted me.

I was done.

Slamming the door behind me, I didn't bother locking it. Later that night, I returned but only to pack up my art supplies and move them into my house. No longer could the studio be used as my workspace.

It was too solitary and it was never meant for one.

#

The next morning I arrived on campus and worked among fellow students, trying to absorb some of the energy they were putting out as they quietly studied fine details or used their entire bodies to create their art. I knew I'd see Jasper there at some point, and when he walked through the door, I made quick eye contact with him before returning to my project. He masterfully set up his workspace and got right down to work; he looked natural there in that environment around creatively stimulated people.

I'd catch myself stopping to watch Jasper work or interact with other students. His laughter was freely shared and genuine. Nothing felt forced or contrived. Every so often, he'd sing along to the music that was playing in the room or he'd groan when a song he disliked would start. I watched as he and Pete joked back and forth about their work, pushing each other to try something different or go beyond their comfort zone. It was what I used to do for Jasper. Everything that I observed told me that Jasper had moved on and no longer had any need for me as his lover, as a friend, or even as a fellow artist. Although I tried to push my feelings down, I hurt and my pain refused to be ignored.

As we stood near the windows, the sunlight streamed in and lit up the highlights in his hair, making it seem like his hair glowed. I'd watch as his curls shifted when he turned his head to tell Pete to turn up the music or deliver a punch line. I'd see his brilliant cerulean-blue eyes sparkle with pure joy when someone would complement his work. But I felt like an observer in the room rather than a participant, standing off to the side, quietly watching the room buzz around me. I wanted to be a part of the energy, but I couldn't find a way to be included that didn't feel false. So, I watched and attempted to work. There was little accomplished on my project but much more than I would have done at home.

I arrived at the studio the next morning and watched it all happen again, feeling more lonely and empty as time crept. Like the previous day, Jasper packed up his tools at four fifteen on the dot and was out the door by four thirty. I remained and tried to work, but once he was gone, I no longer wanted to be on campus, so I cleaned up and headed to my Audi.

Emmett had said that Jasper spent the entire weekend on campus, and I debated going into the studio on Saturday morning. I just didn't think I could handle seeing him again. Whether I admitted it to myself of not, I couldn't deny the feelings of jealousy I had been experiencing.

I had no right to feel that. I was the one who said it was over. I was the one who told him to move out. I was the one who wouldn't allow him to speak his peace.

In the end, I chose to stay at home and kicked myself later that day for not going. I'd rather feel that empty, naked feeling with Jasper in the room even if his presence enhanced and made it more concentrated than minimize it without him.

Sunday, I worked on campus.

I had become the wallflower: watching the entire room, observing movements and color, getting mesmerized by patterns, noticing how shapes were repeated throughout the space. Jasper, of course, became my favorite subject. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him even when I tried.

Curved lines. He was full of them. The way the muscles wrapped around his shoulders as he leaned over his work. The undulating rhythm his entire back made, starting at his broad shoulders and dipping in at his waist before flaring out again at the rise and fall of his buttocks. The way his hand wrapped around his pencil, his fingers curling and fingertips pressing into the wood. His curls. His head was full of curving lines moving every which way yet making perfect sense, from the large curls on top to the tiny wisps at the nape of his neck. His beauty was mesmerizing.

Soon, I decided to stop obsessing and used this new fixation to inspire some art. By late Sunday afternoon, I had made progress on a new piece with Jasper as my subject. It was different than anything else I had ever done of him. When I left at the end of the day, I covered my work with a thick sheet so it would remain private.

It had been over a week since Jasper had placed the leather bound journal in my messenger bag, and I had yet to return it to him. Despite the hours I had put into attempting to communicate my feelings and thoughts to him, I simply couldn't find a way to do it without it being a jumbled mess. In the end, I simply wrote a few words on a piece of loose sketch paper that was sitting in my bag.

_My house_

_Sunday_

_8 pm_

_Please come, so we can talk_

I decided to hand it to him, but I was terrified. When I saw him packing his things once again at four fifteen, I set my supplies aside and wiped my hands on the towel I had tucked into the waistband of my jeans.

I watched the muscle and sinew of his back work underneath the new chocolate brown T-shirt that he wore. The color made his skin come alive, warming it to a tanned hue that I knew was only an illusion. The darker strands in his hair popped and gave his curls a depth that I had rarely seen. Yet, there was nothing quite like the rich brown pulling the clear pools of ocean-blue eyes to the surface, making me take notice of the dark lashes that rimmed his lids. The contrast of light and dark was only made more divine by the pale pink shade that danced across his cheeks and permanently stained his lips. My body reacted by releasing a contended sigh as I absorbed his beauty. It couldn't be stopped.

When I saw his head turn toward the sound, I simply held up a finger indicating that I wanted him to wait a moment before he left. Finding the loose sheet beside the soft leather in my bag, I stood from my kneeling position and walked to his workspace. I looked Jasper directly in the eyes, not glancing away within moments or trying to occupy my mind with something else. Instead, I gave him my full attention and didn't shy away.

Handing him the crisp, white paper, I ran my thumb across the fold I had created as he looked at my hand. "If it works. I understand if it doesn't," I said as his curious eyes met mine, but he didn't ask. He simply took the page and tucked it into his bag before he left the studio without a word.

My breaths started coming at a quickened pace, and I bent over a worktable to try to compose myself. "Hey, you okay, Edward?" I heard Pete ask. I nodded, the skin on my forehead remaining planted on the table. "What's different today?"

"What?"

"Well, something's different, and I'm wondering what it is?"

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"It's obvious, Edward. The way you acted once he left … something's different. What?" His face was open and sincere so I told him that Jasper may or may not be coming to my house that evening and that, if he didn't show up, I had a feeling it would mean something significant. He just nodded and squeezed my shoulder.

#

I left for home soon after Pete and I had returned to our workspaces. My focus had been affected and there was little use in trying to regain it. In all honesty, it had walked out the door with Jasper. After picking at the food on my plate that I had spent over an hour preparing, I stuck the leftovers in the fridge and tried to distract myself. If Jasper was going to come to the house, he would be there in about fifteen minutes. I found something on television, but it didn't take my mind away from my expected visitor. By ten after eight, I knew he wasn't showing up. He was never one to be late.

Rather than trying to divert my thoughts away from my disappointment with the media, I chose to slide into bed and read, engaging my mind more fully. Just as my jeans passed my knees, there was a knock on the door. It was his knock. I'd know it anywhere. Slipping the waistband back up my hips and refastening the closures on my way to the front door, I took a deep breath and attempted to blow out all the nervous energy I had.

As the heavy wooden door swung inward to reveal Jasper standing on the front porch, I was apprehensive and felt unsure about what the evening would bring, but I was able to hang onto my composure and invite him in. When he stepped past me as I held the door open, I wanted so badly to take him in my arms and never let go, but that wasn't what the evening was about. While I watched him bend over to take off his shoes and set them in his usual spot, I asked him what he'd like to drink before I encouraged him to sit down in the living room. Standing against the counter in the kitchen, I took a few moments to figure out how I wanted to start our conversation as I popped the tops off two bottles of beer.

When I walked into the living room, I noticed that Jasper was seated in one of the leather side chairs rather than taking the spot on the couch that had always been his. He was making it very clear to me that he was a guest in my home. It saddened me that the place where he said he felt at home was now a place where he felt like company. Even though verbally and mentally I now referred to the house as mine, it would always be ours. Wanting to give him his space, I took up the cushion on the couch that was furthest from him and watched as he took a long sip of his beer before he set it on a coaster. He leaned back, not truly relaxing into the chair, and crossed one leg over the other knee, watching me swallow the liquid quickly pouring out of the long neck of my bottle.

"I assume you have something to say?" he asked as I took my last few swallows.

I was nervous as hell; the moisture on my palms wasn't from the condensation on the bottle. "I thought we needed to talk; I guess. Get things out into the open so we can actually start working together again." My instinct was to run. This was the last place I wanted to be and the only place I wanted to be. His eyes flashed for a short moment with an emotion I didn't recognize, and just as I was about to blabber about … anything just so I wouldn't have to endure the silence anymore, he took a breath and spoke.

"Is that the real reason, Edward? Is it because we need to work together? 'Cause if that's the only reason then I think I need to leave. We can work together just fine." His tone was cold, devoid of feeling. "We've talked about this art show for months. We both know what the other wants, so there are few conversations that are necessary. The basics are figured out. Now all we need to do is work on our individual pieces and then get them hung before the show. There. We talked." He moved to stand, but I scrambled to my feet and held out my hands.

"No, Jasper. That's not all," I said meekly, panicked. "It's not only about the show. In fact, I don't care about the fucking show. I've hardly worked since I kicked you out, and I couldn't care less. Fuck art. All it is is scribbles on a page to me right now." My breathing was coming out ragged and tears were just below the surface. I did everything I could to slow the tide: sitting down, sipping my beer, rubbing my legs, and finally, sitting cross legged on the couch and leaning back into the corner. He simply watched me after he had eased back into his sitting position.

"Please tell me, Jasper," I pleaded. "Tell me what you were going to talk to me about that night you came to my parents' house?" I knew I was asking a lot, and I didn't expect him to share. He'd obviously moved on and I no longer deserved to know.

"Do you really want to know, Edward?" I heard the sadness in his voice and then read it on his face. "I mean, _really_ want to know?" I could only nod as a lump had suddenly appeared in my throat when he spoke with such emotion. He planted both feet on the floor, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on his knees as he threaded his long fingers through his honey curls and pulled them straight. When his hands dropped in front of his knees, he rubbed his palms together, his eyes focusing on the soothing gesture. Finally, he took a deep breath and started.

"The day that I hit you was one of the lowest days of my life. My greatest fears came to life. I became the one man I never wanted to be, and I hurt the most important person in my life." His eyes moved to mine and remained there for a few silent moments before returning back to his hands. "Even before you came into the studio that day, things were bad, so don't think you provoked me or anything like that."

"I noticed things were bad, Jasper. You had been crying and your art was … it wasn't art. It was rage on paper."

He nodded and clasped his fingers together. "It had been art until I covered it in charcoal. It was an apple, actually, but that's not the point. I had been having financial problems for a very long time, Edward. One thing seemed to build on top of the other, and when I thought I had it under control, something else would happen. Medical bills, tuition, books, art supplies, odds and ends, and then my mother needed significant amounts of cash."

He focused on me, and a cold look settled behind his eyes. "My father started to beat my mother after I came out." My jaw dropped, but I forced my mouth closed as he didn't stop talking. "It wasn't the first time, but again, I was the catalyst. When he hit me in high school, it was because he had seen you and me sleeping in each other's arms after you came home from Italy. I came to your house with a huge bruise on my cheek courtesy of Jack Whitlock. Things got bad for my mom after that, though I wasn't around to see it much. She told me that she stood up to him that afternoon, but when he returned three days later, things escalated quickly. He hit her, but never bad enough to leave marks. She was basically absorbing the rage my father felt toward me, which I feel horrible about. Soon he stopped with the physical violence, but he continued to emotionally abuse her, saying it was her fault that I was fag; she coddled me too much and never made me act like a man. I guess she forced him into anger management, too, but as you saw, it didn't do much good despite the progress she thought she saw in him. When I started to date girls more seriously, he eased up on her, and then finally quit."

"But I got a call at the end of January. That was one of those nights that I fell asleep with my work spread out all over the studio, and I woke up to her call. I drove to Forks in the middle of the night. It was bad, but she got him out of the house, and he hasn't been back since. She lost her job because of her injuries and needed my help, but she wanted complete secrecy even from Rosalie." A solitary tear slipped down his cheek, and he wiped it away angrily. "So I did the only thing I thought I could do for money at the time because everything else had become a dead end. She needed it quickly, and I knew where I could go."

He grasped his beer and started chugging it down, finishing it easily, and as he moved to set the empty bottle down on the table, I saw his hand shake. I indicated that I'd get him another and stood when he nodded. As I walked to the kitchen, I tried to patch the wound that had opened once again so I'd be able to face him. I knew exactly what he was going to tell me. When I handed him a second bottle, he thanked me but was unable to look me in the eye, I noticed.

"There were no more modeling jobs and with my internship and classes there was no time to work a "normal" job. I was putting in something like eighty hours a week back then. My mom needed help and she needed cash right then or she risked losing everything. So, I went back," he whispered as he chanced a glance at me. Steeling himself, he sat on the edge of his chair and turned his body to face me, and I watched as tears easily slipped down his cheeks when he looked at me. "I went back to _Broke Straight Dudes_ and fucked for money." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly and looked at me with fearful eyes.

Even though I knew all of this, having him tell me seemed to set me on fire. I burned, feeling the heat of anger swell through my body. The muscles in my jaw clenched, and I felt my brows bunch together. Jasper stood and moved to the couch, and as he sat down, I drew my body further into the armrest. Moving a few inches away from my retreating form, he rubbed his forehead and jaw. My eyes fell on the mouth of my beer bottle, and I lost myself for a few minutes, allowing the fire to smolder low in my belly, burning away the loneliness, the fear, the anguish. With each passing moment, my face relaxed into a state of placid calm.

"I didn't want to go, Edward, but I didn't see another option."

"How about talking to me? Did that thought ever cross your mind?" I threw at him, my anger with being left out finally slipping through.

"Yes. I thought about it everyday, but I couldn't betray my mother's trust."

"Right." My cynicism was turned up to eleven, and I refused to hold anything back. "Be faithful to a woman who has barely given a flying fuck about you over the last several years, but 'No problem' when it comes to the man you supposedly love. 'Edward will understand.' Right? 'Cause I always fucking understand. All you ever have to do is tell me you're sorry, and I swoon and fall all over you."

I met his fearful eyes and watched as his mouth opened and closed a few times. He had never seen me like this so I was sure it came as a shock.

"No, Edward. That's not it at all. I fucked up, yes! I fucked up badly, and I don't deny that. You have every reason to be angry with me, and honestly, I welcome it."

"God damn it, Jasper! What the fuck is this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you want me to rage at you? Would that make you feel better? Do you want to know what I know about the entire sordid affair? Because I know a hell of a lot more than you think I do, but I need you to tell me. Go ahead, Jasper. Confess. Purge yourself of your sins so you can feel better about your life and move on."

"Fuck you, Edward. Is that what you think I'm doing? Seriously?" I stayed silent and crossed my arms over my chest as he started to spit his words at me. "This isn't some fucking ritual cleansing. Not everyone grows up living the golden life you did. My parents didn't talk about their problems, my father made things happen with his fists, and my mother wasn't able to be there for me emotionally like Mama Bear Esme. Money didn't grow on fucking trees at the Whitlock house like it did at the Cullen house, and yes, I've had to do some fucking humiliating things to pay my way. My father drilled it in my head that a man did whatever he needed to in order to be independent. I couldn't go and fucking close out some bad investment to pay for a house. I did what I did. I can't take it back, but I can admit it to you because you're the one who suffered for it."

"Valentine's Day?" I asked and cockily raised a brow.

All the life seemed to drain from him as his head fell forward. "Yes."

"Tell me, Jasper. Was I so insignificant in your life that you thought it would be okay to go and fuck some other guy on Valentine's Day?"

"No," he said quietly as he looked up again. "It wasn't like that. I didn't even know it was the fourteenth until I got home. So many other things were occupying my mind; I didn't even realize it was Valentine's Day. He took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling for a moment, forcefully releasing the air from his lungs as he met my gaze. "I thought I could just go in there and 'perform' like a good circus monkey and get paid, but I couldn't. The only way I could come was if I thought of you, and I certainly didn't experience any pleasure. It wasn't like that, and I felt stripped of all my dignity and power. At home, I lost myself basically trying to fuck the memories of the night away. When I realized what I had done, basically abusing you, trying to make myself feel better, I was disgusted with my actions."

"You do realize all of this could have been avoided if you had talked to me, right?" I couldn't keep myself from being an ass and rubbing it in.

"I know that now, and I wish I would have come to you! The worst thing I did, if you ask me, is pull all of my affection away from you. I'm sure you felt rejected. I know you did. I could see it in your eyes everyday. Hell, I still see it in your eyes even though you try to hide it from me. I know I hurt you Edward. I lied. I cheated. I betrayed you." He looked at me a long moment before saying, "I'm sorry, baby. I am so sorry."

I stood and walked to the kitchen, needing a moment to keep myself from giving into his apologies. The sincerity in his eyes was evident, and despite my anger, I knew he had told me the truth. He could have easily lied, not knowing I was privy to the entire story. And yet, he chose to be honest, keeping no secrets and holding nothing back, just what I had always hoped he would give me. All I wanted to do at that moment was pull him to me and bury my nose in his curls and breath in his scent. Yet, I wouldn't allow that to happen because there were some things I couldn't fully understand. How could he? How could he have gone back to that place? How could he reject me knowing it would hurt me? How could he not tell me that he needed help? The broken record was starting again and I stopped myself, focusing on the granite countertop until my vision blurred.

How could he not trust me? That's what it came down to.

With my renewed focus, I returned to the couch where Jasper was leaning back against the armrest, his head in his hands and his legs crossed on the cushion in front of him. He looked up at me as I sat down.

"What I don't understand is why you didn't feel you could trust me? I've been there for you through everything that you've ever shared with me. But that's just it, Jasper, _whatever you__'__re willing to share_. What have you kept from me over the years? I just found out why your father hit you in high school, for example. I wish you had told me that years ago. Not that I could have fixed it, but I would understood why we stopped going to your house and would have known not to sleep in the same bed with you. What else is there? What else have you kept secret? You know, I hate secrets, Jasper."

"So do I, Edward. I detest them, and I don't want to keep anything from you anymore. I want to tell you everything. I've kept a lot inside and it seems to be in my nature. It's just what we did in my family. We never talked about feelings or fears or even desires, for that matter. But I need to fight against that."

"You used to call me your truth, Jasper. Has it been one-sided from the start?" I asked as I reached for his left arm and allowed my thumb to brush against the textured leather of his wrist cuff. I traced the combined symbols for truth and light with my fingertip and then looked at him with all sincerity. "Was this all a lie?"

"No, love. It wasn't a lie. It's still not a lie.

Silence penetrated the room, only interrupted by quiet breaths taken every so often. It was during that moment I realized Jasper and I were breathing at the same rate, matching each other's rhythm and slowly soothing one another. It was an unconscious response.

"Why did you pull away? Was I so … undesirable? How could you go to that place and let a stranger fuck you but then not touch me for weeks … even abandoning our bed?" I could no longer keep my tears at bay as I felt the sense of rejection explode within me again. "What was wrong with me?" I choked out.

He reached for my left hand with his. My eyes fell to our joined fingers, and I felt a soothing salve spread through my body at his contact. "Look at me, Edward." I met his blue eyes as his thumb stroked across the back of my hand, slowly moving upward where it slipped under my long sleeve T-shirt. When his skin didn't meet the leather cuff, his eyes were pained for a moment. "Nothing, nothing, was wrong with you. I pulled away because of what I did to you on Valentine's Night. Never again would I allow myself to lose control like that, and I only knew of one way to make sure that wouldn't happen. It was asinine to think pulling away wouldn't hurt you too, but I wasn't exactly thinking clearly at the time. I had many opportunities to talk to you, but I didn't take them."

I looked back down and saw the dark brown that encircled his arm above his wrist bone. My eyes wouldn't leave it, and I was angry that he still wore his while my wrist was naked.

"Why don't you wear yours?" he asked.

"Because we aren't together, and right now," I said as I started to unbuckle his, "it's just better this way. The things that are pressed into this leather no longer represent us. They represented us as a couple. Now we're just two men trying to find ourselves." I pulled the warm leather from his wrist and slipped it over mine, exhaling the moment it made contact with my skin. He watched my face, and I knew he could read the contentment I felt. I missed the security my cuff brought me. Only allowing it to touch my wrist for a minute, I took it off and held it in my hand.

"I would have been there for you, Jasper. I would have held your hand and shined a light into the darkness. I would have carried you when you were too tired to go on and lifted you up when you fell. I would have paid for your bills and helped you find a way to assist your mother. You were my partner. We were in it together, or so I thought. You're my soul mate, Jasper, and I was willing to walk to the end of the earth with you."

"You aren't my personal savior, Edward," he said in a quiet yet pained voice.

"What? I never said I was your savior."

"No," he stated more emphatically. "You never said it, but you've tried to act like it."

"No secrets, huh? Okay, Jasper. Tell me," I chided, wanting to know more.

"Just because you have money doesn't mean you can fix all my financial problems. I know you paid off the house so I wouldn't feel obligated to pay you rent. Sure you probably needed to close out that investment account too, but I know there was more to it than that. You were my nurse after Jessica took my dignity. You were my personal chef when I started to waste away. Even back when we started having sex, you decided that you would bottom without even talking to me about it. You made decisions for me and tried to take care of me." His voice continued to rise, culminating in, "I'm a man, damn it! Let me have some say."

"Why didn't you talk to me about this? Wait," I stopped, holding up my hands. "Don't answer that. I know. It comes down to one word, and that's why this," I held up the cuff that was still in my hand, "means nothing. Trust. You don't trust me and you never have." I stood and started walking to the front door. "I can't talk about this anymore, Jasper. Nothing I say is taken at face value anyway. I must have ulterior motives to all my actions, right?"

"That's not it at all, Edward. Just stop," he said as he joined me in the entryway. "This is ridiculous. Come on, baby. Don't shut me out."

"Hey, you shut me out months ago. Doesn't feel good, does it? I'm not ready for this," I admitted as I opened the front door and gestured for him to leave. "You need to go before I say something I'll regret. I'll see you on campus."

As Jasper left the front door, I stormed out the back and walked to my flowerbed, angry and frustrated that our talk ended the way it did. I heard the engine of his truck come to life and listened as it retreated down the street. I made my way in between the rows of flowers, trying to calm myself down, but it wasn't working in the least.

"Fuck! Personal fucking savior, my ass. I'm your fucking partner. We help each other. Like he didn't do things for me? Of course he did. Isn't it fucking give and take?" I was so angry and in complete disbelief that he had said those things to me. "Partner!" I shouted into the dark sky and quickly saw that I had obviously disturbed our neighbor. Her kitchen lights came on, and she peered out her window, trying to see what the disturbance was. I waved at her and shook my head at myself. I felt like I was losing it. Rather than disrupt the peaceful neighborhood I lived in, I decided to head back into the house.

As I walked into my bedroom, I realized that Jasper's cuff was still in my hand. Walking to my dresser, I opened the top drawer, retrieved my cuff and slipped it on my wrist. Comfort and security enveloped me as I ran my fingers over the familiar texture. "What have I done?"

How could I have deprived Jasper of the security that enveloped me when this warm leather wrapped around my skin? It was nothing but cow hide, but it was so much more, and the knowledge that I was depriving him of that sensation was more than I was willing to allow myself to think about.

Setting both cuffs on top of the dresser, I headed for the shower, trying to wash away some of the night, knowing it was futile, but forging ahead nonetheless. When I reached for my shampoo bottle, it was very light and nothing would come out. Reaching for my towel, I quickly dried the lower half of my body so I wouldn't drip everywhere. When I stepped out, I reached under the sink and found the lone bottle of shampoo I had in the house.

Flipping open the lid, I poured the amber colored liquid in my hand and watched it spread across my palm like honey. The scent hit me like a wall and tears flowed freely as I began to wash my hair with the earthy essence of cloves. Memories of Jasper came pouring forth as the steam from the shower made the scent grow stronger.

I missed the way he grounded me and made me feel more solid and secure. I didn't know what power he had over me, but there was obviously something because no one had ever given me the sense of certainty and happiness that he had. Whether I wanted to admit to myself or not, Jasper was the one.

I crumpled to the floor of the shower and curled into a ball as shampoo ran into my eyes and burned, but I did nothing to stop it. My tears would eventually wash away the sting. Too bad my tears couldn't wash away the cynicism and anger I had spewed at him. All he wanted was for me to listen to him with an open heart. Perhaps mine was too damaged to be open anymore.

My mind went to the small things, the seemingly insignificant, as the water poured over my head. I missed the way he left his coffee spoon sitting beside the coffee maker each morning even though it drove me nuts. I wanted to see his dirty laundry hanging over the laundry basket rather than sitting neatly inside of it. Anything to know he was there.

When ice cold water splashed down my back, I stood and finished rinsing my hair. I was shivering as I slid into bed, not naked as usual, in a long shirt and pajama pants. For many minutes, I shook under the down comforter, eventually feeling warmth start to spread through my body.

The darkness and silence surrounding me pressed against my skin. It was him. I felt him all around me. The pull I felt … I wanted to be next to him, not here alone in our bed, shivering in the blackness of night. But still, he was there with me, wrapping his arms around me, warming me, and making me feel safe.

How much longer would I push him away from my arms that so desperately wanted to embrace him?

_Thick fog surrounded me, obscuring my view, and I had no idea where I was. Trying to make it out, I walked and felt the damp air clinging to my skin. Only a thin shirt and jeans covered my body, and when I looked down, I noticed my feet were bare, toes sinking into the grass covered ground. When I looked up again, I saw a vague figure walking in the distance. I tried to follow, but the person retreated and left. Fear clutched onto my muscles, tightening them, but I stood still, attempting to listen to my surroundings. Turning toward the sound of running water, I ran my right shoulder into a tree trunk that seemed to come out of nowhere. As I looked up, I noticed my tree house. I was in my backyard in Forks. Now that I knew where I was, I ran in the direction of our tree. I needed to be in our sacred space so I would feel secure and the fear would be left behind._

_When I arrived, I ran my fingers across the moss-covered bark, picking up droplets of moisture than ran down my hand. My toes dug into the cool soil at the base of the tree, and I felt rooted there as secure as the old tree. Looking up, I saw the glow of the sun trying to break through the fog, attempting to burn it away so that the mist could reveal its secrets. Slowly, my gaze retuned to the tree, and I found the spot, the place where I knew something was hidden. As I reached out to touch it, I sensed a body approaching me from behind._

_His heat warmed my chilled back as he pressed his chest into me and placed kisses at the back of my neck. I felt his slow breaths pass over my sensitive skin, sending jolts of excitement throughout my entire body. Torturously slow, he ran his hands from my shoulders to my wrists where he released me. The whimper that came from me sounded pathetic and weak, but I desired his touch so much that I had no shame. I wanted him back, and he knew because his hands were soon on my hips, and he was pressing his firmness into the muscle of my buttocks. Arching my back, I pushed against him as he pulled me tighter with his hands low on my belly._

_I wanted him to stay, not run off like he had every other time. Somehow, I had to keep him with me._

_He grazed my sensitive length. I watched his fingers move over the denim fabric, bringing me such pleasure that I couldn't keep still. Lacing my fingers between his, I showed him what I liked, and he followed my lead with ease. My head fell back onto his shoulder. I wanted so badly to look at him, but I kept my eyes closed so he'd stay and bring me to climax like I so desperately craved from him. When my eyes returned to our entwined hands I knew there was more. There had to be more._

_Reluctantly, I dragged our palms up my stomach and simply rested our arms against my body, feeling contentment in his embrace. This felt right, natural, and I sighed as I enjoyed the tranquility of the sensation of his touch, the silence of the space, and the beauty of the fog as it slowly started to dissipate around us, revealing the lush green of the backyard._

_But I needed more._

_I knew I was taking a risk, certain he would disappear, and I'd be left alone and fearful once again amidst the trees. But I had to try._

_Ever so slowly with my eyes tightly closed, I began to turn in his arms, and when he began to pull away, I brought him closer with my hands. When my nose was buried in his neck, I breathed in his earthy scent and wrapped my arms tightly around his waist. But no matter how secure I felt my grasp was, it was useless. He disappeared once again._

_"Wait!" I cried into the misty green. "Please come back," I begged._

_The silence in the yard seemed deafening, and he was gone, so why was I still there? As I turned on my bare soles in the dewy grass looking for where he went, the fog seemed to be thinning because of a breeze that I didn't feel rush past my damp skin. He stood by the riverbank, statuesque and proud. The mist still surrounded him as I called out again. "Will you come back to me?"_

_I saw him turn, his hair shifting as he looked my direction. It was as if I was seeing him through a scrim, mostly silhouette with a few details revealed because of the sparse sunlight that hit him just so._

_Somehow, I had known all along. Yet as he walked toward me, silently answering my plea, the fog disappeared, and the sun revealed his identity. His golden curls were lit up in the rays, and the pink lips on his beautiful mouth curled into a soft smile. The blue in his eyes became brighter the closer he came to me._

_No longer could my feet remain planted in the dirt; they needed to propel me so I could wrap my arms around him. When I began to move toward him, he stopped, waiting for my next motion, an indication of my final decision. I tried to walk slowly but found myself running toward him, watching as he stood beneath a tree with his arms outstretched to me. When I reached him, I threw my arms around his neck and tasted his delicious mouth._

_"Jasper," I whispered. "It could've only been you. You're the only one."_

_His silky tongue was invited into my mouth and danced with mine, quickly finding its familiar motions. Firmly, he ran his hands down my back and pulled me close to his body so I could sense every reaction that my presence caused in his body. Containing my moans was futile and there was no need to. I wanted him to know how he made me feel. I wanted him to feel how he made my body respond._

_"Why did you always leave?" I asked through heavy breaths._

_"I never did. I've just been waiting for you to realize that it's me you want."_

I crashed to the floor and was abruptly awoken. My clock read half past three, but my dream was fresh in my mind, and sleep was the farthest thing from my mind. Scrounging through my messenger bag, I found the leather sketchbook and my drawing pencils before grabbing a blanket and my keys and heading to the studio. When I arrived, I threw myself on the Barcelona daybed and immediately started to draw. I knew exactly what needed to be sketched.

Sunlight streamed across my face, and I cracked an eye. I didn't remember even feeling drowsy the night before, yet I slept. A quick shower to tame my matted hair and a breakfast bar to go, I headed to the art store to pick up a new set of pastels. When I pulled into the parking lot, I saw Jasper's motorcycle. Walking over to it, I ran my hands along the curves and read the "For Sale" sign.

_I should buy it for him_, immediately went through my mind followed by, _oh shit_.

My hand stopped over the side mirror, tracing the circle with my thumb. When I leaned over to look at myself, the truth was revealed.

He was right. He was absolutely right. I tried to save him all the time or at least tried to ease what I perceived to be his burden, but I did it without receiving his input. Hell, I even planned our Valentine's dinner without telling him about it. I just expected him to come home and celebrate something I hadn't even mentioned. He was right about everything, from the mundane to money to me bottoming without having a discussion about it. How could we not talk about that? I even talked to Seth about it, but never Jasper. And he liked bottoming when he did it with James.

Why did I make assumptions when it came to Jasper? Did I think I knew better than he did? How insulting.

_"I've just been waiting for you to realize it's _me_ you want."_

Had I been so in love with the idea of Jasper that I never allowed myself to love the real Jasper? I wanted to take care of him so he wouldn't leave me, but by doing so, I pushed him away.

Stepping through the door of the art store, I quietly greeted the owner, Renee, and made my way to the pastels. She joined me and asked if everything was okay. It was as if she could sense I was off. I simply shook my head and looked down as tears filled my eyes. My lips quivered as I tried to hold back my anguish, but the moment she touched my cheek and drew my gaze to hers, the tears fell.

I knew who I wanted. I wanted the fiercely independent man who loved me like no one else ever could. I wanted the man whose simple touch made everything right. I wanted to be his, and I needed to know how he felt.

#

I don't know how I got on campus, but soon I was parking my car and running toward the studio, weaving in and out of people on the crowded sidewalk. It was as if every student decided to walk in front of me at that moment, and I couldn't get to the studio fast enough. Finally, I saw the characteristic building up ahead and darted across the lawn, bypassing a throng of young people touring the campus.

Opening the heavy front door, I used so much force that it slammed against the doorstop and bounced back hitting me hard in the shoulder. Ignoring the pain that shot through my arm, I dashed up the stairs, taking two at a time, my breaths coming even but heavy. I was nervous and excited as hell as I saw the doorway to the studio up ahead. Running down the hall, I skidded to a stop in the doorway and looked straight ahead finding Jasper bathed in the bright sunlight that poured through the windows.

Cerulean blue eyes rimmed in red looked up at me, drawing me closer.

Taking slow deliberate steps, I struggled against my body's natural desire to rush forward. I couldn't have stayed put if I had tried, feeling the draw he had on me, as if he were the earth. I stood no chance against his pull. I wanted nothing more than to take him in my arms like in my dream and kiss his tender mouth. Each step set my legs on fire from holding back, but they brought me closer. I smiled at him, showing him the joy I felt at seeing his face.

He set his charcoal down and watched my measured advance, studying my face, and I saw apprehension and confusion pass across his brows.

Everyone in the studio stopped what they were doing when I passed the doorframe, and the only sound that could be heard was ColdPlay's "Talk" coming through the iPod. I felt eyes piercing through me as time seemed to slow, or perhaps it stopped. Whatever it did, soon, it was only Jasper and me in the studio; everything else blurring out of focus, becoming insignificant compared to the man now standing in front of me.

"I'm sorry. You were right," I confessed. His eyebrows shot under his blond curls before they descended again, and he bit his full, lower lip. I took a long, slow breath before I admitted, "I've tried to fix and control everything without your input, and I'm sorry, Jasper. I had no idea what message that was sending. I never meant to insult you. Fear. I did it out of the fear of losing you. Please tell me I haven't lost you?" He remained silent as I traced the outside of his hand with my fingertip and I felt his pinky curl as if he wanted to hold on to me. "A lot of healing has to happen. I don't know what we are? Not enemies. Not lovers. But friends?"

He studied my face, eyes dancing across my features and resting for long moments on my eyes and lips. "Friends," he finally, emphatically said before he pulled me into his warm embrace. My shoulder burned from the door slamming into it, but I ignored the pain and melted into his arms, burying my nose in his neck and taking in deep, slow breaths. I felt his nose move across my neck, sending shivers in every direction.

He pulled back to look at me and threaded his fingers into the hair at the base of my skull. The urge to pull him to my mouth was overwhelming, and I'm sure I wasn't the only one feeling it. The way he looked at my lips and licked his own told me he was fighting against his desires too. Not wanting to tempt fate further, I leaned in and rested my forehead against his allowing the tips of our noses to touch. My hands nestled in the dip of his lower back as I closed my eyes and simply felt his closeness once again.

"Where's the minty-fresh, clean-smelling guy? You smell like cloves," he whispered.

I had to chuckle as I took his hand in mine and we walked out the door.

* * *

Music Selection: Sara Bareilles, Gravity

**Edit: 3/5/2012**


	29. Truth

**Truth**

After I slipped the leather sketchbook into Edward's messenger bag, he stopped coming to the studio on campus. I didn't know what to make of it but rather than dwell on it and read things into his absence that I couldn't possibly know, I focused on my art. With my job taking up evenings, I set up a fairly rigid schedule for working on campus. I no longer had the luxury of waking up when I wanted, sipping on coffee, and heading to the studio in the backyard when I felt inspired to work. Now I had to drive to UW, find parking, walk to the studio, and make sure I got back in time to eat supper before I had to be at my job. It took me a good thirty minutes just to get from Rosalie's place to the studio, so an hour a day was wasted, or at least, that's how I started to see it.

When I walked into Rosalie's apartment Monday night, my nose detected garlic, and my mouth immediately started to water. "What can I help with, Rose?" I asked after I dropped my bag and jacket in her guest room.

"Here," she said, handing me plates, flatware, and napkins in a neat stack. "I have a bottle of wine you can open, too; let it breathe a bit. Em's going to join us tonight, and I think we'll eat in about five minutes."

I couldn't keep myself from smiling as she spoke quickly and moved around the kitchen like it was second nature. Rosalie didn't cook, but when she saw how thin I had gotten, she made it her personal mission to get me back to a healthy weight. Emmett was a fairly decent cook, and he was able to teach her a few things in the kitchen. She had become much more comfortable cooking and reminded me of our mother in the easy way she directed me. With the bottle of wine opened, I quickly set the table and returned to the kitchen to stir the sauce on the cooktop. Just then, Emmett arrived.

As we sat around the table, I felt comforted by the simple act of eating with my sister and my friend, but at the same time, it was strange. I often felt like the third wheel on a decidedly two-wheeled bicycle, unbalancing the contraption and making it ride a bit wobbly. There were times I'd hear Rosalie and Emmett talking in heated whispers, trying hard to keep their discussions under wraps, and although I couldn't make out what was being said, I knew that my presence there kept them from having an open dialogue.

The serving bowls were handed to me a second time, as was now customary, and I dished more food on my plate without complaining. I learned early on that saying I wasn't hungry didn't matter. As I speared a broccoli floret and brought it to my mouth, I saw Emmett reach out to grasp Rose's hand, his rough thumb stroking across her knuckles. With no warning my memory jumped back in time, and I could sense Edward's well-used fingers sliding between mine, curling around my hand, and nestling into a perfect fit. I had to avert my gaze before emotions started to take over, so I took a deep breath and brought my wine glass to my lips, swallowing thickly.

In an effort to distract myself, I started to talk. "Uh. Um. Elizabeth Masen called me today. She wants more freelance work from me."

Rosalie turned her head toward me and slipped her hand out from under Emmett's, sensitive to the fact that I had noticed their caress. "Do you think you have time? You aren't going to get bogged down, are you?"

"I don't think so. I was actually thinking I could do the work on the weekends after my studio hours."

Emmett spoke up. "That's a lot of hours. Don't burn yourself out, man. I know you have debt to pay off, and Rose and I were talking." He quickly looked at Rose and had a silent conversation before looking back at me. "I've seen you looking for apartments in the paper, and I know you don't have the money. Anyway, we think you should just stay here until Masen Design decides to put you on their regular payroll because we all know they will. I'm going to be moving in here soon, so I'll be helping with the rent, and it just makes sense for you to stay."

"I really don't want to inconvenience you guys. I know I get in the way, and I feel like … I guess, like a child who needs taking care of. That's not a great feeling. You know?"

Rosalie reached for my hand and wrapped her delicate fingers around mine. "Jasper, it's okay to accept help and I'm in a position that I can do this for you right now. I've been covering my rent on my own and don't need help with it. Please, allow me to do this as your sister. Okay?"

I was getting choked up feeling how much love my sister, and even Emmett, had for me. _Accepting help doesn't make you less of a man_. The words of my counselor, Dr. Victor, ran through my head. A lump formed in my throat that couldn't be swallowed away, even with a sip of wine, so I simply nodded and looked at both of them, unshed tears blurring my vision.

"Now," Rosalie said as she stood and walked to the kitchen, "dessert." She walked back into the dining room carrying a pint of ice cream and three bowls. We each dove in and were soon scraping the bottom of the carton.

While my mouth was busy eating the chilled treat, I thought about all the false truths I had fallen for growing up. I was finally able to start questioning those gut reactions I had to certain things, like accepting help, and now I could keep myself from immediately turning it down. Dr. Victor wanted me to say yes to proffered help, and starting with my sister seemed like a safe place to begin.

I stacked the dirty dishes and set them in the kitchen before returning to the dining room. "Now, with a full stomach, a very full stomach, I must get to work. Rosalie, thank you for the wonderful dinner." She smiled up at me as I kissed the top of her head and left to change into my work clothes.

#

When I arrived, I slipped behind the bar and tied an apron around my waist, settling into my well-rehearsed ballet that happened in front of the espresso machine. I had only been working at B&O Espresso for a few weeks, but for some reason, the job came naturally to me—well, almost naturally. It seemed the natural part may have been due to having a great trainer.

Zoë, formerly known as piercing girl, was patient and kind with me on my first day as I dropped coffee grounds on the floor and nearly burned her with the steaming wand. Rather than get angry or exasperated, she doubled over laughing and decided to take things a tad slower. I had never worked food service, and the speed with which everything had to be done was so different than the slow, methodical, relaxing pace I enjoyed with my art. The one area where I truly excelled was making espresso and mixed drinks, so I became the barista/bartender on the nights we worked together with Zoë preferring to mingle with the customers.

As I refilled the grinder with espresso beans, my eyes were covered by little hands, and I could feel Zoë vibrating behind me. "Hey, don't cover my eyes; show it to me," I said, turning my back to the grinder and setting the bag of beans on the smooth wooden bar. "Come on. Don't be shy, now."

"Okay, but come back into the kitchen," she said as she grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door.

Zoë was oddly perceptive and could tell truths about me within hours, perhaps minutes, of meeting me on the job. Some might say she was a keen observer, but it seemed she knew more than scrutiny alone could tell. I won't give her credit for recognizing I was an artist or that I was gay, because Edward and I had sat in the coffeehouse drawing together without hiding our affection for months before I started working there. But she somehow knew Edward and I had recently broken up. While I was still devastated when I had applied for the job, I shut those feelings off when I went to work that first night, but she knew … somehow. She said she could tell because my aura was affected, grey and avocado green while lacking any and all blue around my throat chakra. Whatever that all meant? I dismissed her judgments outright until she explained what she was talking about.

"Jasper, I can tell that you're depressed but you're trying to start anew. The lack of blue tells me you were unable to talk about something, and that's why you're heartbroken."

I was dumbfounded. How could she know that? I didn't frequent B&O so often for her to know anything nearly that precise, so I asked her.

"I don't know how I know; I just do," she quipped. "Am I right?" I nodded for a few seconds before I shook my head in disbelief. I started to listen to some of her more out there statements and discovered that she was very in tune with people. When she noticed the colors of my aura change and become bluer, she asked if I was feeling more creative. I certainly was, so she asked me to design a tattoo for her. The Friday before, we had met in front of the store before work and walked down the street for her tattoo appointment. She had been so excited she could barely contain herself, swinging our joined hands between us as we headed for the shop. My presence was requested since I was the designer and because she wanted a friend with her. While she had several piercings, this was her first tattoo, and she was nervous.

As she dragged me toward the back of the kitchen, behind a shelf, she started to unfasten her fly and pull one side of her pants down over her hip. The delicate five petal flowers crept around her hip ending in delicate lines and small polka dots. Her skin was still healing, but the pink and brown that the tattoo artist helped her pick out were beautiful on her lightly tanned skin. "It's really beautiful. He did a great job. How do you feel about it?"

"Can you two stop undressing each other and get out there and help the customers?" our boss joked while he frosted a cake.

"Remember, Kyle. Gay. I'm not into girls."

"I know, I know. Just get out there and tend the bar. I don't have time to work the front tonight."

When I rejoined Zoë up front, she was already helping a customer, and I got to work making a Valencia mocha. The night was fairly slow, so we had opportunities to have more in depth conversations. It felt good to make a new friend, especially one that didn't really have the knowledge of Edward, for all intents and purposes. This was probably one of the only friendships I had that was mine alone. We talked about a lot of things, but rarely him. When he would come up in conversation, it was because I would be telling her about my past or my art, and there was very little that Edward wasn't wrapped up in when it came to my history.

Zoë and I were easily affectionate with each other, kissing each other on the cheek when greeting and saying good-bye and reaching for hands as we sat at the cozy table we preferred by the front window. As we left work for the night, our arms wrapped around each other, and we wished each other a good night. That didn't always happen, but she definitely seemed to know the days I needed a hug and gave me the physical affection I craved.

#

Near midnight, I walked into Rose's apartment and was met with Emmett grinding himself on my sister who lay below him on the couch. Jealousy colored my face, remembering what it felt like to have Edward's arms wrapped around me, his hands traveling down my back, and a leg thrown over one of my hips. I released a loud sigh as I walked to the guest room and saw out of my peripheral vision that Emmett scrambled off of Rosalie. They must not have heard me unlock the door when I came in, but I didn't give them a chance to greet me. I simply closed my door and slipped out of my clothes and into bed.

For my first several nights in the guest bed, I had slept in pants and a T-shirt, not wanting to … I don't really know why, actually. But for some reason, sleeping in the nude just didn't seem right. I had slept in the nude for years, but the feel of the sheets on my skin reminded me so much of Edward. Sleep never came easily, and one night I finally relented and threw my clothes to the floor. The only thing I kept on after that was the cuff Edward had made for me. It only came off to shower, and even then, I couldn't wait to get it back on. Zoë had commented on it during one of my first nights working with her and proceeded to tell me all about the symbolism tooled into the leather. I just smiled as she told me what I already knew. I never told her who it was from. That night, like most, I fell asleep running my thumb over the textured design.

I woke with a start, and a quick glance at the clock beside me told me I had only been asleep for a few hours. Sweat covered me in a thin film and my breathing was erratic, but it eventually smoothed out. On the other side of the closed door, I heard feet shuffling across the carpet. I had awoken Rose or Emmett somehow. Perhaps I had cried out, because fear gripped my heart behind my sternum even though I had no recollection of my dream. After turning my pillow to the cool side, I kicked the comforter aside so that one leg could be exposed, regulating my temperature more effectively. Soon, I was back asleep.

#

When my alarm beeped at me in the morning, I wanted to cover my head and hide under the warmth of the blankets, but I showered and got dressed, making sure I ate breakfast before leaving for the day.

7:00a ~ Wake  
8:00a ~ Studio  
12:00p ~ Lunch  
4:15p ~ Clean up workspace  
4:30p ~ Leave studio  
5:00p ~ Supper  
6:00p ~ Work to closing  
12:00a ~ Sleep

The next day, do it all again … alone.

It had been a week since I had seen Edward. Like I said, I tried not to dwell on his absence, and I believe I kept myself busy enough to forget from time to time. Sketches had been filling the pages of my sketchbook since Zoë had noticed the blue return to my aura—crazy woman knew what she was talking about—and I was taking advantage of what seemed to be a creative swell.

When I arrived at Masen Design Thursday morning, I was quickly escorted into Elizabeth's office. "Jasper, come in. It's so good to see you again. I'm excited that we have some more work I can pass along your direction." We sat in her office hammering out the details of the job, and I told her about my plan to work on things over the weekend. After money was discussed, I headed to my truck and climbed onto the bench seat. I was nervous and the words that Rose and Emmett said at the dinner table about getting burned out rang in my ears. The money was just too good to turn down though, as well as the opportunity to work with Elizabeth.

Parking next to a brand new blue Audi in the campus lot, I carefully opened my door so I wouldn't ding the paint on the car and threw my bag over my shoulder. My eyes remained on the ground as I made my familiar way toward the studio and thought about how I was going to manage my time over the coming days. In the end, I decided my studio time would need to remain structured, at least until the weekend. Before I realized it, I was standing at the studio doors. When I looked up, I saw him.

The colors of autumn were littered atop his head, the light shining through the window bringing out all the metallic tones that were scattered through his messy strands. My breath caught in my throat, his beauty nearly knocking me back a few steps, but I stayed put and saw his weary green eyes find their mark. It took everything in me to not let him sense my natural reaction: the desire in my gaze, the stirring in my belly, the overwhelming need to lick my lips. Rather than allowing that to dominate me, I stepped to my workspace and quickly set up, squeezing all my longing into a tiny ball that I attempted to keep under the surface.

He was so quiet and withdrawn, so different than the Edward I knew. Our times in the campus studio had previously been exciting, where spontaneous moments would lead to crazy antics that resulted in fits of laughter. We had made many friends in our earlier years, before having the studio in the backyard. Now that I was back working on campus regularly, I had rekindled those friendships, and it was comforting to have a mental diversion while I worked. This morning, it took me nearly an hour to find my groove and feel comfortable with Edward working beside me.

I could feel his gaze on me every so often: while I was engrossed in my work, as I bent over to retrieve a needed tool from my bag, or when I'd sing to music that happened to draw my voice out of hiding. But there were times I felt his eyes practically boring into my soul as Peter and I challenged each other to reach deeper and pushed one another further in our creativity. I didn't know what to make of Edward's attentions initially and simply tried to ignore it, but there was little hope.

I wanted his eyes on me. I wanted him to drink me in and wanted him to feel our connection. He'd tried to throw it away, to pretend our years together didn't mean anything, but I knew they did. There was no way he could conceal his desire for me even though he attempted to hide behind a façade of indifference.

Walking in the door of the coffeehouse that evening, Zoë could tell immediately that something had changed. She said something about my heart and head not being able to communicate because I still hadn't opened my throat chakra. But she could sense new energy there and asked if she could work on me. Very little of what she said made any sense to me since I wasn't well read in eastern philosophies, but what stuck with me was that I still hadn't talked to Edward, and it was not allowing my heart and mind to work in unison. When there was a lull in customers, Zoë did something to me—I'm not sure what, but she touched me with her hands—and I felt an odd heat passing through me. It was a very strange experience but one that wasn't unpleasant in the least. That night, I slept more peacefully than I had since I last slept with Edward.

Though I suspected I'd see him the next day, my body still reacted in an almost kinetic way when he walked through the studio door. I did everything in my power to behave as if he weren't studying me, watching my every move. But I could feel his energy and it was affecting mine. When four fifteen came around, I was glad to leave and go to work.

"What did you do to me?" I asked Zoë the minute I walked through the door of B&O.

"What do you mean? What happened?"

"I felt him all day, and it took everything in me not to talk to him." I sat down at a table where she quickly joined me, and I started pulling at my hair. She reached for my elbows resting on the table and brushed her thumbs across my forearms.

"It's working, Jasper. You're opening up your chakras so the energy can flow more freely. Tell me what happened today," she asked as if I were her personal science experiment.

My brows knit together, and I shook my head, not only because of disbelief but also because what she said made perfect sense to me. Something had happened and I could feel it. "I worked beside Edward all day today, but it was different than yesterday. Sure, I felt his stares and wanted to talk to him yesterday, but I simply reminded myself that I needed to give him time and allow him to come to me. But today. Oh my God. Today was totally different. I don't think I've ever sung as much in the studio as I did today just to keep my mouth from talking to him." I covered each eye with a palm and pressed causing light and sparks to flash behind my lids. Nothing I did could remove the sight of Edward, withdrawn and lonely, looking as if he didn't belong in the one place that he used to appear so natural, meant to be. It unnerved me, and I wanted nothing more than to try to draw him out. When I told this to Zoë, her face turned curious, and she played with one of her lip rings, pulling it between her teeth.

"So why can't you just talk to him? What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that he's not ready. I've tried numerous times to talk to him and he made it very clear that he's not ready. Last week, I finally drew something for him and tried to communicate with him that way. He didn't come to the studio for a solid week, and now that he's back, he seems even more withdrawn. I poured my soul out to him in that journal in the only way I thought he'd listen. Now, I have no idea if he's looked at it or if he simply threw it away. What I really want to do is talk to him and tell him everything. He deserves to know."

"Not only does he deserve to know, Jasper, but you deserve to have him listen to you. You need this and your soul does, too. Now, tell me; what really happened between you two?"

Throughout our shift, I gave her snippets of my story, trying to convey where I thought things went wrong and admitting nearly everything to her. She listened and asked well thought out questions, making me rethink assumptions I had made and opening my eyes to a few new perspectives. By the time I left work, my head was swimming and I was exhausted. I fell asleep nearly the moment my head hit the pillow and awoke the next morning groggy and disoriented.

My design work for Elizabeth actually ended up being quite straight-forward, and when I felt I had done everything I could, I emailed her the proofs and decided to go to the studio again. Edward wasn't there when I showed up, and I was glad. I knew he could walk through the doors at any moment, but I didn't think I was ready to feel the overwhelming desire to talk to him that I had the day before. As desperately as I wanted to be his friend again, I knew the best thing I could do for him was allow him to come to me. I decided to work in the darkroom, enlarging some photos I wanted to include in the art show.

Confessions.

It had been months prior that we decided what the title of our show would be, thinking it would be about society and the secrets we keep. Those things no longer seemed important to me, but the word confessions now had an entirely new meaning and significance to me and, I'm sure, to Edward as well.

According to Peter, Edward never showed up on Saturday, and I returned home and spent the evening relaxing to music and taking a much-needed rest.

Something was different about Edward the next day at the studio. Sure, he was still withdrawn, and I could feel his tension, but as the morning passed, he became less reserved and guarded. He would outright stare at me, and I knew he was studying me. I could feel his gaze travel down my body, over the lines and curves that were returning to their former fullness. He held me there without touching me, and I wanted to give him the opportunity to drink his fill. When he pulled out one of his new linen canvases and started roughing out shapes on the prepared surface while glancing between his easel and me, I knew I was his subject.

The sunlight from the windows behind me poured in, flooding my back with light in contrast to the shadows that covered my face. Though I continued to work, I was conscious of his every movement, and I wanted to be there for him, allowing him to do as he wished. As the hours passed, I sensed his body relaxing and soon he seemed to have lost all self-consciousness, nearly becoming the old Edward that I knew and loved so much, though throughout, he remained silent.

As much as it pained me, I knew Rosalie was expecting me for dinner, but I dreaded leaving him. I watched the minute hand slowly creeping toward the three, and when I realized I only had five more minutes in his presence, I couldn't keep the ache at bay any longer. Trying to hide the emotion that had taken over, I turned my back to him as I packed up my supplies. When I took my brushes to the sink, I glanced at him. His beauty was so disarming, and as I cleaned my tools, I took deep breaths in an attempt to pull myself together.

Back at my workspace, I organized everything and got ready to leave when I heard a soft sigh released by Edward. I had to look at him. Maybe this was an opening, a moment that he'd be willing to talk. He held up a finger and reached into his bag, withdrawing a sheet of paper. His confidence was evident as he handed it to me and said a few words. Never once did he break eye contact. The change in his demeanor threw me off guard, and I didn't know what to say, so I simply took the paper from him and left. Once I was sitting in my truck I dared to open the folded note and saw that he wanted me to arrive at his house that evening so we could talk.

I stared at my dashboard, not really noticing anything beyond the circular shapes in front of me. My mind raced, and soon I realized that my breathing was coming in short gasps. Squeezing the steering wheel between my fingers, I rested my head on it and tried to calm myself. Wasn't this what I wanted? I had been asking to speak with him for weeks and hating each moment I couldn't, and now I was having a fricking panic attack over the mere prospect of it.

Gathering my wits, I started the truck, drove to Rosalie's house, and ate quietly, effectively dodging any overt scrutiny before I sequestered myself in the guest room. I rummaged through the closet, trying to decide what I should wear if I chose to go over there. Right. Like I wasn't going to go. But I kept telling myself I had a choice so I wouldn't freak out and start hyperventilating again.

When my cell phone rang, I was startled but immediately felt myself relax when I saw it was Zoë. When I answered it, she could tell something was wrong and demanded that we get together. Just like Emmett, she was one who wouldn't take no for an answer and was soon calling me again, telling me she was parked outside the apartment building. I walked down to meet her and crawled into her Smart Car as she looked me over trying to determine what was up. Without a word, she started to drive, taking the bridge over I-5 and heading west toward Puget Sound. Before we got to the water, she turned north and then west again, parking in an area of the city that looked familiar to me. She remained silent as she parked in front of a piano bar, got out, and then took my hand once I joined her on the sidewalk. We walked next to a low, decorative metal fence, and I had a sudden sense of déjà vu. It wasn't until she turned into a small walkway that it came back to me. The labyrinth Edward had brought me to.

My feet stopped, unwilling or unable to move, so she pulled at my fingers, encouraging me to continue on my journey. Once she sat down on the low ledge and let my hand go, my feet moved freely. I knew my path.

As I chose my entry point, I looked at my feet, noticing the contrast between the leather of my shoes and the smooth stone. With each step, my focus became sharper as superfluous worries seemed to fall away. I quieted my mind, forgetting logical thought. Reaching the center, I simply stood there listening: to the birds, to the traffic, to the wind, to nearby chimes. My breathing became deeper, more satisfying, as I took in the scents of blooming flowers and earthy soil.

I really wanted to take my time, not rush, so I sat down cross-legged in the middle of the labyrinth and closed my eyes, calming myself and trying to prepare for my evening with Edward. Not knowing how long I sat there, I stood only when I felt centered and ready to move again. On my way out, I started to feel energized, ready to meet whatever Edward wanted to talk about. When I stepped out of the maze, Zoë grabbed my hand again and walked with me back to the car. Our return ride to the apartment was also filled with silence, and when she parked, I looked at her as she pulled me into a warm hug. I whispered thank you to her before I climbed out and watched her drive away.

Somehow, she sensed what I needed. Perhaps it was from the symbol on my cuff that I traced so often or something else, but she knew I needed to find some peace. When I climbed the stairs to Rosalie's apartment and unlocked her door, I felt calmer than I had in a very long time. When I returned to the closet to contemplate my clothing choice, I knew that the chocolate T-shirt that I was already wearing was the perfect choice. The clock next to the bed let me know I would very possibly be late, but I didn't want to lose the tranquility I felt, so I didn't rush.

His street.

His house.

His porch.

His door.

I knocked and waited, looking around the small enclosure and seeing a footed planter with tulips and daffodils beside the door. When he answered, his eyes were greener than I had ever seen them. It could have been the rich emerald thermal shirt he was wearing, but I think it had more to do with the anxiety I could sense coming off him. I stepped into the entryway, bent to take off my shoes, setting them aside, and made my way into the living room while he headed to the kitchen.

It was so strange being there, looking around at the nearly naked walls, devoid of everything that was ours. Only a few pieces remained of the art I had left on the walls the night I moved out. Shiny metal nails reflected where art had once hung, looking lonely and making the walls feel even more barren. He had obviously pulled more down. I didn't know where to sit. For some reason, I felt like my old spot on the couch would be too presumptuous, so I sat on a leather side chair and ran my palms across my thighs, waiting for him to join me. All the peace I had found just an hour prior fell away, and I was nervous and anxious, questioning why he wanted me there. Why couldn't we have this conversation on more neutral territory? Why did it have to be in the one place that … that I feared I would never live again, no matter how badly I wanted it?

When he handed me a beer, I couldn't keep myself from taking greedy swallows of the liquid before I set my bottle down on a coaster. As he continued to drink from his beer, I leaned back and crossed my legs, trying to find a way to cut the tension. When I finally spoke, I sounded defensive, and when he said the reason he wanted to talk was so we could work together, I became angry, spitting harsh words out and standing to leave. He rose, trying to entice me to stay and tell him what I intended to tell him at his parents' house, so I sat back down and did just that.

I told Edward everything. I was honest, and as I spoke, I tried to remember what I had learned in therapy, to be forthright but not to throw myself under the bus. I tried to remember things that Zoë had tried to instill in me, to let my heart and head communicate so that what I said was genuine. It was obvious that my words were hurting him, and I could see a fire burning behind his jade eyes. Making my way to the couch, I sat and ached when I saw him pull away from me, so I retreated and rubbed my face roughly. As I paused, attempting to find a way to make him understand, I saw a frightening quiet come over him, taking away his spark.

Cynicism was thrown at me, hurtful words and chiding feelings. I tried to answer his questions and quiet his doubts, but everything I said seemed to make it worse. When he called me out, pointing his finger at one thing after another, I said things that had been hidden deep inside of me, things I didn't even allow myself to think. "Not everyone grows up living the golden life you did." But I didn't stop there. No, I had to continue, digging myself in further, burying my chances of ever reconciling my friendship with Edward, incinerating any opportunity to hold him in my arms again. Before I got too far, I said, "I did what I did. I can't take it back, but I can admit it to you because you're the one who suffered for it."

Valentine's Day.

The elephant was revealed, and I collapsed in on myself, ready to take all his anger and no longer try to fight. He thought he was insignificant. He thought he never mattered to me. I tried to explain, to let him know where I was coming from back then and why I pulled away. Finally I looked into his verdant eyes and tried to convey all my regret and anguish over what I had put him through and told him, "I'm so sorry."

Edward stood and left the room, and my eyes followed him, remaining on the spot where he turned the corner for a very long time. Slowly, my vision was blurred by tears, and when I finally blinked, the tears broke free from the bars of my lashes and tumbled down my cheeks. I crossed my legs and leaned back against the armrest while resting my head in my hands, trying to keep the tears at bay.

I felt the couch cushion give and looked up to see Edward mirroring my pose. He talked to me about trust and secrets. He thought I didn't trust him. When he reached for my left arm and traced the labyrinth and sun on my cuff, I smiled because he did the exact same thing that I did every time I reached for it.

"Was it all a lie?"

"No, love. It wasn't a lie. It's still not a lie," I said imploring him to believe me. He was silent and the room was still around us. I wondered if even the winds outside had stopped moving, the rain had ceased falling, and the animals had paused to listen.

"Why did you pull away? Was I so … undesirable?"

I could see how he'd think that, but it was so far from the truth. He was the most desirable person in the world to me. I yearned at that moment to pull him to my mouth, to show him how desirable he was, to lavish his flawless skin with my lips and tongue, tasting him, breathing in his scent.

I wanted to make him mine once again.

A tear slid slowly down his face, and I reached for his hand, gently caressing his knuckles, making my way under his sleeve to touch the cuff on his wrist. When my hand met only skin, I realized he wasn't wearing it. Pushing my hurt away, I focused on his, attempting to show him that I was trying to protect him from the monster I had become.

When I asked about why he no longer wore his cuff, his answer cut me deep. What tore at my soul even more than his answer was when he removed my cuff, but I saw the pure contentment it gave him the moment he placed it over his wrist. He didn't want to be without his and I knew exactly how he felt. Yet, he also felt the need to suffer without it.

After only a few beats, he took the leather circlet off and said, "I would have been there for you, Jasper. I would have held your hand and shined a light into the darkness. I would have carried you when you were too tired to go on and lifted you up when you fell. I would have paid for your bills and helped you find a way to assist your mother. You were my partner. We were in it together, or so I thought. You're my soul mate, Jasper, and I was willing to walk to the end of the earth with you."

With each sentence he spoke, a truth was revealed to me, one that I didn't want to listen to, but I knew I'd have to say something. As beautiful as his words were and as much as I wanted to let them soak in and allow them to fill me, I knew that I needed him to understand this about me. My counselor had tried to get me to see it, but only now, in this moment, did it make sense. My voice rose as I talked about the house, Jessica, and healing after my bashing, and I finally admitted that I wasn't completely happy with how Edward had decided to bottom without having a conversation with me about it. In the end, I yelled at him, telling him I needed to have a say in my life. That's when the conversation died. He completely shut down, telling me I didn't trust him. Quicker than I could pull it all together, I was slipping into my shoes but begging him not to shut me out. He wanted nothing to do with it. The door was opened, and I was shown the way out.

As I started to get into my truck, I heard the back door of Edward's house slam shut. I started the engine and drove away, trying to get away from the pain that only seemed to grow exponentially as the distance between us widened.

Red light.

It wouldn't change even though I crept forward trying to trip the sensor.

Damn red light.

Eventually, I gave up willing the light to change, rested my hands in my lap, and waited. My right thumb moved to brush the designs on my leather cuff, and I realized it was gone.

"Fuck it all." I slammed my hands down on the steering wheel and looked to my left before I gunned the accelerator and took a right turn.

I ended up at Zoë's house even though I had only been there one other time. After I knocked on her door, I realized it was late and was about to head back to the truck when she answered wearing flannel pants, a tank top, and Hello Kitty slippers. She must have seen that I was distraught because she pulled me in and started to hug me before she had a chance to close the door all the way.

After a few moments, she released me and invited me into her living room. I sat on the couch with her, and she pulled my head into her lap before she set a small dish on my stomach. When I looked at what she had placed there, my brows furrowed as I realized it was full of various stones. "Uh, what's this for?" I asked as her fingers started to trail through my hair, relaxing me.

"I thought you might want to keep your hands busy while you talked, that's all. So, whenever you're ready, I'll listen."

The irony was not lost on me, especially when I was ready to talk nearly the moment I had laid down in her lap. Was it possible that all I ever needed was someone to tell me they were ready to listen?

My fingers blindly rummaged through the bowl of rocks, exploring the different textures before I decided on a rather rough stone with sharp edges. When I withdrew my hand, I saw that it was rose quartz, and I started to finger the stone as I talked to Zoë about the night. She asked where my cuff was, and when I told her, I had to do so through tears and an emotion-addled voice. I was surprised she could understand me, but she did, asking questions to clarify. Nearly an hour later, I stood to leave her home, thanking her for allowing me to drop in on her. As I handed her the rose quartz, she told me to return it to her at work, so I slipped it in my pocket and left.

At home, I struggled to sleep, continually moving back to my left wrist to stroke the ghost of Edward that was no longer there. I was so exhausted and silent tears continued to sneak from the corners of my eyes. Soon, my pillow was wet as well as the hair beside my temple. I finally retrieved the stone from my jeans pocket and held it in my hand, feeling the mineral take on the heat of my body. As I concentrated on the rock, I eventually lost myself to sleep.

#

Monday morning my alarm didn't wake me, but Emmett did, smacking me on the ass and telling me to "get the fuck out of bed." Not the best way to wake up, but I needed to get to the studio. When I looked at myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth, I saw how bloodshot my eyes were from my tears and my poor night's sleep. Throwing cold water on my face, I saw it was hopeless so I grabbed a cereal bar to go and ate in the truck on my way to school.

I worked in the studio, talking to Peter in muted tones. He put on one of his more subdued playlists as he seemed to sense that I needed some calming music. I was in the middle of trying to perfect the lines on a sketch when I heard quick and heavy footsteps in the hall. I ignored them until they came to an abrupt halt and the entire studio went quiet aside from Chris Martin's voice pouring through the speakers.

When I looked up, I saw Edward standing in the doorway, all flushed and excited with his breaths coming quickly, making his well-defined chest rise and fall below his thin, well-worn vintage T-shirt. He carried nothing with him and his hair was pushed back off his forehead as if he had run his entire way there.

I set down my charcoal when I saw a genuine smile spread across Edward's lips, lighting up his eyes. Fire burned, quick and wild in my belly, rushing out to my limbs as he started to deliberately advance into the room, coming closer to me with each agonizingly slow step. Not knowing what to do, not knowing what this meant, I stood there and watched, trying to let him come to me so I wouldn't scare him off.

Standing in front of me, so close that I could feel the energy and heat rolling from his body, he spoke to me with such sincerity in his eyes. "I'm sorry. You were right. I've tried to fix and control everything without your input, and I'm sorry, Jasper. I had no idea what message that was sending. I never meant to insult you. Fear. I did it out of the fear of losing you. Please tell me I haven't lost you?"

I didn't know how to respond without my words tumbling out of me in a desperate mess, and I wanted him to understand right away, not be left with riddles. Before I could speak he reached for the outside of my hand, tracing along my tender flesh; I yearned to grab his hand and never let go.

"A lot of healing has to happen," he continued. "I don't know what we are? Not enemies. Not lovers. But friends?"

I studied his face, looking for any sort of doubt or fear that might be hidden, but found none so I pulled him to me.

He still felt like home to me.

Closing my eyes, I trailed my nose from his shoulder to behind his ear, smelling clove, not mint as I had expected. I pulled back and looked at his arresting beauty and threaded my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck fighting hard to hold myself back. I wanted to taste his mouth so badly, but he leaned in and rested his forehead against mine.

Contentment washed over me as his hands settled into the small of my back and his fingertips moved back and forth over my spine. I felt supported and strong, unlike I had felt in months, and as he took my hand and we walked out of the studio together, I was hopeful.

Silently, we walked toward the parking lot, and he led me toward the blue Audi I had parked next to last week. I was confused when he unlocked the doors with his remote and got in. When I joined him, I had to break the silence.

"New car? What's this about?"

"I wrapped my car around a light pole a few weeks ago," he sheepishly admitted.

"My God, are you okay? Is that why you were gone so much?"

"No. I'm fine. Just a few bumps and bruises but nothing serious. Anyway, Alice helped me pick this out. What do you think?" he asked.

"It's not what I would've expected from you, but it fits. Decided to get rid of practicality and go for fun, huh?" He nodded and backed up, driving toward his house but then turning toward the business district of Capitol Hill instead. When he parked near B&O Espresso, I knew that was our destination, but he stopped himself.

"Jasper, would you like to get coffee with me here or would you rather go somewhere else?"

"This would be fine with me. I'm actually hungry. The cereal bar I had didn't really stick with me this morning. Come on. Let's go see if our table is free."

When we stepped up to the slate-colored door, I saw the sandwich board that I had drawn on during my last shift: butterflies and birds adorning the corners. I opened the door for him and allowed him to walk through first. Kyle greeted us, raising his brows at me in question. I knew what he was wondering. Who is this guy? Is this _the_ guy? What was I doing there at such an odd time on a Monday morning?

"So, Jasper, can I get you the usual?" he asked, "or do you want to make it?"

I felt Edward's confusion before I saw it but simply smiled at Kyle and told him I'd make both of our drinks while he pulled together breakfast for us.

"What are you doing?" Edward asked me under his breath.

"Edward, I work here. I leave the studio everyday by four thirty so I have a chance to eat supper before work. Now, do you want a double or a triple hazelnut latte?"

I figured I'd give him a chance to ask more questions after we sat down, so I walked behind the counter, washed my hands, and tied on a green apron while he decided on a triple. Just as I had expected. Edward loved his caffeine. He watched me with fascination as I pulled the lever on the coffee grinder and tamped the grounds down with just the right amount of pressure before I twisted the portafilter into the group head. When I pulled the espresso, he shook his head in wonder. I couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction as I reached into the fridge for the milk to steam. He was watching me with awe as I finished our drinks and set them on the counter and untied my apron. Just then, Kyle walked up to the cash register and told us it was on the house. I protested, but he wouldn't hear it and told us to just sit down and accept his generosity.

Edward and I found our preferred table open and slipped into the fairly secluded seats with our drinks. Kyle didn't say a word as he brought us our breakfast but winked at me when he was out of Edward's eye-line. I smiled at him and drew my gaze back to the autumn-haired man across from me. His pumpkin-colored shirt certainly brought out the red in his hair but warmed up his skin tone too. We ate in silence for a few minutes, taking bites of omelets and sausage between sips of coffee. It felt like how it used to be with us, comfortable quiet surrounding us.

"I'm really sorry about how angry I got last night. The last thing I should have done is invite you over and then attack you. I asked you to tell me about what happened, and I thought I was ready to hear it. In fact, to be honest, Jasper, I knew about you going back to _Broke Straight Dudes_."

I quirked my head and lowered my brows, wondering how he could know that.

"Okay, I need to tell you the truth now. Just, please, let me tell you the whole story before you get angry, okay? I'll understand, but you deserve to know everything."

"Edward," I stopped him before he could start by placing my hand over his. The heat of his skin and the rough texture sent a jolt up my arm and ignited the flame in my gut again. I didn't know how he had the power to light me up like that, but he did … every single time. "I just want you to know that the reason I came to your parents' house and then tried to talk to you all those times, including last night, was not to hurt you. I wanted to talk for the same reason you do now. You deserved the truth, so I'll offer you the same courtesy, okay?" I felt a soft smile spread across my lips, and he returned it and placed his free hand atop mine.

"Thank you. Remember the text message I sent to you … what was it? Like a month ago? You were out running errands, and you told me you'd be back in a few hours." I nodded, remembering it very well. "I was at the house and was basically trying to figure out what was going on with you. It was so out of character for you to physically fight, and as angry as I was, I knew something had to have caused you to lose control like that. You don't let go that easily." Under his breath, so softly that I barely made it out, he said with a flirty smirk, "Unless it's in the bedroom."

I scoffed, and he realized he had been heard. "Well, you have that right. And yes, now you know what was wrong. All of it. Well, I guess you don't know that I was suicidal and have been going to therapy for the last month. That's new."

"Oh my God, Jasper. Shit!"

I held up my hands to stop him before he got too sidetracked. This was about him, and he asked that I not interrupt. "I'll tell you more later. But don't worry; all's good."

He looked down at his hands that were now folded on the tabletop in front of him, shaking his head. "Okay. But you aren't getting away with letting that one go," he said as he met my gaze with seriousness. I nodded and encouraged him to continue. "Well, I found out that you had credit issues, I saw you were selling your bike, and I found out you had withdrawn everything from our account. It didn't dawn on me, but eventually, I figured out that it was probably medical bills. On a previous visit to the house, I actually found your test results from the clinic, too. I know I shouldn't have looked, but I did. Sorry."

Heavily, he sighed, releasing palpable tension with his breath. "I ended up in the studio that day, and I found a beat up sketchbook on your desk." I took in a sharp breath, and he met my eyes and gave me a sad smile. "I opened it initially because it was unfamiliar but also because I didn't think you'd been sketching. That worried me so much. But then I saw that you'd been using that cheap paper, and it made me ache. As I paged through the book, I saw how you were breaking down inside, and I hurt so much for you."

"Then I turned the page and saw you with that man on the couch. I didn't know who he was, but I figured it out as I turned the pages. I knew then that you'd gone back, and I left the house and went to my parents' and watched the video."

I couldn't help the groan that left me and I buried my head in my hands, trying to will away what he had seen. He remained silent while I sat there covering my eyes from shame and regret. It was bad enough I had done it, but that he had seen it made it even worse. Now I understood his reactions better.

"I guess I just needed to see if it was true," he whispered and I had to look at him. He deserved to be looked at while he shared these things. "I'm not going to lie, Jasper. It hurt like hell. It still hurts like hell when I think of it, but I see now that you felt you had no other option. Do you know you could have come to me? I'm not asking to be an ass. I'm asking as your friend."

"I know now, Edward, but I was so buried at the time that I wasn't exactly cognizant of what was happening. It would have been so much better, but I carry a lot of baggage with me that I am just sorting through. And then I just made it so much worse on Valentine's Day and basically painted myself into a corner. I felt so trapped by my own stupidity." I pulled at my hair and felt my entire forehead bunch together with tension. "I'm so sorry, Edward. I don't know how else to convey how badly I feel, and I'll work for the rest of my days to earn your forgiveness."

We sat there and just looked into each other's eyes, silent understanding opening us up.

"Baby," I started, before I realized I used his nickname, but he didn't react badly, so I didn't retract it, "my words were taken from me because of the secrets. I was scared to touch you because I was afraid I'd hurt you again, and my art no longer communicated anything but rage or secrets I didn't ever want to reveal. I wasn't able to share my feelings with you in any of the ways that I had come to rely on. I was lost. Alone. Even if by my own doing."

Edward nodded his head, and I could see he was thinking, concentrating, and attempting to understand. "You know, Jasper, you called me out on always trying to fix things, and you are so right. I'm not sure we've ever been that great at talking to each other about our feelings now that I think about it. I simply waited for you when you withdrew rather than trying to talk to you about things. I'm not sure if that's what you needed. That's often what I need so my temper doesn't get the best of me, and I just assumed you needed the same."

"Honestly, there have been very few people I could talk to about my feelings. You were really the first, but I've started to open up a bit since I've worked with Dr. Victor. He's trying to get me to realize that no man is an island." I laughed and he joined me, his voice sounding like music in my ears.

"I think I said something very similar to you the day that we fought," he said, shaking his head as if he was trying to lose the vision that came to him. "Anyway, it sounds like you felt as if every means of communication had been taken away from you. The fact that you no longer touched me or talked to me and that there was a glaring lack of art besides your work should have shouted to me, but I turned the other way, thinking it was stress and time would heal it. I should have come to you, Jasper. I should have been a better lover. I should have been a better friend and tried to help you help yourself and not rescue you. I'm sorry for that."

We continued to speak for hours, breakfast dishes cleared away, coffee cups refilled, soup delivered and hearts patched. It was nice to talk to him about all he needed to know. I needed to do what Dr. Victor had taught me to do, be open and honest.

Late afternoon came, and I felt I needed to give him more of myself. "I've missed you so much." My breathing slowed, and I spoke each sentence with great determination so that he would feel how important these words were to me. "I know I'm meant to be with you. You need me. We're perfect together. We just fit." I threaded my fingers through his, sighing at the feel of his rough skin on mine. "I love you, baby, and I can't stand being away from you."

He looked down at our entwined hands and back to my face before he spoke quietly. "I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet. I love you too. More than you can know, but I'm scared. I'm afraid you don't trust me, and I'm not sure I can trust you yet. We need to build that back up before I can be with you."

I nodded and bit my bottom lip, trying to divert my hurt, but I understood.

"It just hurts so badly to not be with you everyday, and honestly, now that I'm missing this," I wrapped my fingers around my left wrist, now bare of my leather cuff, "it hurts so much more. It was the one comfort I had … the one connection I still had to you. It gave me hope."

"I know, Jasper. God knows, I know that. Alice challenged me and asked me why I still wore it if I was done with you. She knew I wasn't. I can't ever be done with you, Jasper. You're my soul mate, and you fill me. You make me whole. But for right now, I think it's better this way, but tell me what you think."

"I think I can do without it, but not forever, okay?" He nodded at my query. "I'll give it some time. I guess it makes sense even if it hurts like hell."

"Not to change the subject, but you're living with Rose, right?" I nodded in response and took a sip of my cooling coffee. "We really do have a lot of work to do in the coming weeks. I know we need to sit down and figure out logistical stuff for the show, and all those hours wasted driving to and from the studio is driving me nuts. I haven't been able to work in the home studio since you left. I've tried, but I can't."

"Yeah. I know what you mean about the drive, and with my shift here, I have to leave so much earlier than I want."

"Maybe this is premature. I don't know." Edward stopped to ponder something for a moment before he asked, "Would you want to move back home, maybe into your old bedroom or even the studio if you'd be more comfortable there? I don't want to pressure you, but think about it, okay?"

I knew my answer. I didn't need to think about it for another second, but I wondered if he needed time. "Can I answer you now?" I asked, scrutinizing his face and seeing no apprehension when he nodded. "I'd love to move home. You tell me where you'd be most comfortable with me staying. The studio would be fine if my old room is too close."

"No, that would be fine."

Just then Zoë walked in ready to start her shift, and when I looked down at my cell phone, I realized I needed to work in the next hour. She didn't initially see me but Kyle must have let her know that Edward and I had been sitting, eating, and drinking the day away.

"Can I get you a refill, boys?" she asked in a chipper voice after she had been in for nearly ten minutes. "I'm Zoë, by the way, and you must be Edward."

I saw something flash in his eyes as he made eye contact with her, but it was gone as quickly as it came, so I ignored it.

"Yes, I'm Edward. Nice to finally know your name after all these years."

"You too. Say Jasper, I called Jane, and she said she'd cover your shift if you'd like to take the rest of the day off. What do you say?"

"Uh. You didn't need to do that, but I suppose that would work. I did just submit some freelance work so I have a little extra cash coming to me soon. Thanks, sweetie pie. I really appreciate it. Oh," I stopped her as she started to retreat, and I pulled the rose quartz from my pocket, handing it to her. "Here. I said I'd return this to you. Thanks, by the way."

"Anytime, Moptop. You know, you picked the one stone in that bowl that heals a wounded heart. You keep this, okay. It seems to be working. It helps with forgiveness, too." She set the stone down right in the center of the table, and Edward picked it up, fingering the rough texture. "I have to get back to work. Great to see you, Edward. Jas, I'll see you tomorrow night." With that, she smiled and rounded the corner to help other customers.

"I have a confession," Edward said, "actually a few."

"I do too," I admitted. "Do you want to go first?"

He rolled his eyes and tipped his head back to look at the ceiling. "Uhm. Not really, but since what I have to say may affect your decision about moving back in, I'd better." With a big sigh, he clenched his fist and admitted, "I had sex with two men. Well, actually sex with one and I let another guy suck me off at Eclipse."

I pressed my lips together and nodded my head. "This was after you found out about the porn, right?" He nodded, and I quickly looked down to the light brown liquid in my mug before meeting his stare. "You have nothing to apologize for. We weren't together. Hell, I was still with you when I let another guy fuck me. What I did was so much worse. And I stole your money that we put into our savings account to help pay off debt. I've since replaced it, but nonetheless, I stole from you." I pulled my wallet out and retrieved the latest receipt I got after my most recent deposit and handed it to him. The account now had over three thousand dollars in it, and I saw shock paint his features.

"How did you get this kind of money, Jasper?" I felt hurt when I heard the slightest bit of accusation in his voice, but I pushed it away. He didn't trust me for a reason, and he had every right to know where the money had come from.

"I've been freelancing at Masen Design, I have an hourly wage here on top of the tips, which can be really good some nights, and I've sold some of my art. Rosalie is allowing me to stay at her place rent-free, and my mom has taken over her own debt now that she has a job again. Every dime that I could spare went into that account. It's been my number one priority. Your father told me he didn't want to see a loan payment from me until after graduation, and no, I have not gone back to _Broke Straight Dudes_. In fact, I haven't used my body to make money since Valentine's Day, not even for a simple art class."

Edward looked down and traced his finger and thumb over the lines of his coffee cup as he absorbed everything I just told him. Soon, his lips pulled into a smile and he met my eyes again, nodding at me with understanding.

"You said you had a few things or was the two guys your few things?" I asked with a soft laugh.

"No," he thoughtfully started. "I just recently realized that what Jessica and Mike did to you, they really did it to me too, in a way. It really fucked me up more than I realized. I got extremely protective of you, even more so than I had been before. I know I've said this, but I wanted you for years. Just this morning I was questioning if I was more in love with the idea of you than the actual man. I know that's not true, but I was angry and confused."

"What changed?" I asked.

"I saw your motorcycle for sale, and my first thought was that I should buy it for you. It was like a shiny, silver wake-up call on wheels." He laughed at himself and I joined in, relaxing into the easy banter we were all of a sudden having despite how intense the conversation was. "Anyway, it all kinda came together, and I simply had to find you. I was finally able to see that I was killing the man inside that I fell in love with by trying to protect you. I left you out of major decisions and you called me out on a huge one last night."

"I called you out on several things last night, so what are you talking about?" I wondered.

"Bottoming," he simply said and left the word hanging there in midair, waiting to see what would happen. I slowly blinked and barely nodded. "Again, I thought I was doing you a favor, giving you an opportunity to start a relationship with a man in a position of power and one that was more familiar to you. I was selfish, too. I didn't want our first time together to have anything to do with that place. What I really wanted was for our first time to be your first. I wanted to be that for you."

I slid out of my seat and slipped into Edward's booth, remembering the evening nearly eight months prior when he was the one slipping in beside me. I felt echoes of that moment. I slipped my arm around his shoulder, pressed my lips to his temple, and took in a deep breath of the clove that still lingered in his hair.

"Edward," I whispered into his hair, "you were my first everything. You were my first true friend. You were the first person I ever willingly shared my art with. You were the first boy I shared a bed with. You were the first man to ever touch me with love and affection. You were my first best kiss, and I hope you'll be my last best kiss. But more important than all of that, Edward," I turned his face so he would look at me, "you are my one and only love. No one will ever have my heart because I already gave it to you, and you're the only one I will ever trust with it."

His lids closed heavily, and I could barely hear his breath even though he was so close. I carded my fingers through the hair by his right ear and heard his breath catch.

"Jasper," his whispered. "Please stop. I don't have much self-control right now." I followed his request, pulling my hand away and leaning back to give him some room. When he sensed my retreat, he opened his eyes once again. "I'm not ready for this yet. Fuck, I want to be, but something inside me is telling me to be careful. I didn't just lose you as my lover over the last three months. I lost my best friend. I'm not sure I can risk losing you again. I'd rather be your friend for the rest of my life than risk something not working out. You're too important to me."

I nodded and moved back to my original seat, and I saw him physically relax as I got further away. That hurt, but I understood. He reached for the rose quartz that we had been passing back and forth throughout the last hour and allowed his gaze to get lost on the light pink stone.

"If it's too hard, Edward, maybe you'd prefer if I didn't move back quite yet. What do you think?"

"I don't know. I don't want to make it harder for you when you're obviously ready for so much more than I am right now."

He fell silent, studying the mineral, and I gave him his peace. I picked at the sandwich that Zoë had brought over during one of the lulls in our conversation. We had talked so much that it basically sat untouched as did Edward's. I stood and excused myself, heading toward the bathroom just to give him a few minutes without my scrutiny. When I rejoined him, he looked up and gave me a sad smile.

Rose's guest room it was.

"I get it, Edward. I'll stay with Rose," I said, effectively letting him off the hook.

"No, that's not it at all," he said as his eyebrows shot up. I leaned back and waited. "I want to live with you again, Jasper, I really do, but I need to move slower. How about you come and work at the studio at home this week? There's a lot to consider with our show, and honestly, the campus studio isn't the best place for that. Will you come over in the morning? I'll even cook supper so you don't have to go back to Rose's place."

"Sure, Edward. I'll come in the morning."

It wasn't everything I wanted, but it still felt like going home.

* * *

**Edit: 3/6/2012**


	30. Beauty

**Beauty**

"Where have you been?" She was seething as I walked through the door. Not giving me a chance to answer, she quickly continued, "I've been calling your cell. Why the hell isn't it turned on? It goes straight to voicemail." Her hands were on her hips and she started to tap her foot. _Actually_ tap her foot. I couldn't help but laugh, but that only earned me an added glare. Rather than give in to her right away, I slipped my jacket off and bent over to untie my shoes. Finally, I stood up and looked at her with sincerity.

"Rosalie, I'm sorry I missed supper and that I didn't call to let you know. I didn't do it out of disrespect. I was with Edward." I let my last statement hover there for a moment and saw surprise color Rose's face. "We've been talking all day—literally, all day—and we got a lot of things worked out or at least … out."

"Why are you home and not at work?" She tried to refocus her anger, it seemed, but I was just too happy to be pulled into that. I laughed at her shift in tack as well. She didn't appreciate my mirth so I smoothed out my grin by pulling my palm down over my mouth.

"Jane came in to work for me."

"Jasper." She softened her voice, and I could hear the concern. "What's going on? Why are you shirking your responsibilities for Edward? You need the cash. You can't just drop everything and ditch work the moment he decides he's finally ready to grant you the opportunity to talk to the great Prince Edward."

"Come on, Rose," I challenged, mad that she'd insulted him. "That's completely unnecessary and unfair. Edward was hurt by what I did and you, of all people, know I fucked up. Well, he sees where he fucked up too. We were both ready to talk today, and I made the decision to go with my gut and share how I feel with the man I love. I've kept myself from him for months … _months_. One day shouldn't be too much to ask. He deserves my time, and I'll give up a hundred bucks to talk to him."

"You're going to lose your job."

"No, Rose. I was at B&O, and Kyle was there, aware of everything. Come on, I'm an adult and I made a choice here. This could affect the rest of my life with Edward, and honestly," I stood straighter, "I don't think I need your approval to do this."

She looked down at her perfectly manicured nails and passed the pad of her thumb across each nail on her right hand as she took a few deep breaths. "You're right; you don't. I just don't want to see you fall back into that depression." When she finally looked at me, her eyes had softened, and I saw my fiercely loyal sister, the one who would stand next to me on most anything.

"Tomorrow, I'm going to be working at his studio, and he's offered to cook dinner for me before I go to work." I could see the suspicion in her eyes, but I continued. "Take the night off. You've been taking care of me for weeks. Why don't you and Emmett go out or order in? Just be with Emmett without worrying about me, okay? Please?"

Rose reached for my hand, and I watched as her tiny fingers seemed to get lost in my palm as I closed my fingers around hers. "You're going to be careful, right?" she asked, and I nodded as I looked down and grasped her other hand. "You aren't going to make any rash decisions or let him sucker you into spending the night?" I tilted my head and shook it slightly as I tried to turn the grimace on my face into a smile. "You're going to keep your pants on, right?" She looked up at me with challenge in her eyes. "Right?"

"Right!" I barked back, louder than I expected.

"Don't fuck with me, Jasper. I know you too well for that. You are so over the moon for that boy you'd do about anything for him right now. Your guilt isn't going to help you out there either. In fact, it'll probably make you jump into things faster than you normally would. So, I just want you to promise me that you'll keep your pants on … and that means keeping his pants on, too. Fully buttoned and zipped as well. No elastic waistbands. No drawstrings. Your pants stay at your waist. Your cock stays in your pants with none of that bullshit reaching inside pants or on top of the fabric for a little groping. Okay?" As funny as it was, I dared not laugh at her because the seriousness of her directions were evident on her face.

"Okay, Rose. I will not come within the personal space bubble of Edward's cock. How's that?" I asked, unable to keep the cocky smile off my face.

"Ass. But, yes, that would be perfect. Now, I'm going to bed. I'm exhausted. I may see you in the morning, but if I don't, I'll see you after work. I love you." She kissed me on the cheek and retreated to her room.

Only moments later, I was crawling into the guest bed and turning out the light. I had a hard time relaxing enough to sleep, but I wanted to be well rested for my day with Edward. As I tossed and turned, I thought of all the new pieces that I wanted to show him that I had worked on in the weeks/months since we had last sat down and really discussed the show. Rather than allowing my mind to race, I sat up and started making a list of things I wanted to bring to his house, and before I lay back down, I sent him a quick text.

_Should I bring new pieces over tomorrow or not?_

As I set my alarm on my phone, his reply came.

_If you'd like. Nuts and bolts tomorrow. See you around 9._

I don't remember how I finally fell asleep, but I did as was evidenced by the incessant beeping from my alarm that was slowly driving me insane and the bright morning light spilling through the flimsy drapes my sister had on her windows. Remembering the text from the night before, I pulled out my aluminum portfolio case where I'd been storing my showpieces and began sorting through them. I slipped a few samples of my latest work in my lighter nylon portfolio along with photos of older pieces and decided to bring a sketchbook and some pencils along just in case I decided to draw or felt inspired.

Rosalie happened to be in the kitchen that morning, and we spent a few minutes drinking coffee together and slowly waking up before I jumped in the shower and made sure I was ready to be out of her apartment for nearly sixteen hours. I made sure to fill my Sigg bottle with fresh, cold water and threw a cereal bar in my bag, ignoring the scowl I got from Rose for not eating it, and I walked out he door. I threw an "I love you," in there for good measure and got one in return along with a laugh.

There was one thing I wanted to get from the campus, so on my way to Edward's, I stopped at the studio and picked it up. When I drove into his neighborhood, I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn't know why. I just did. Opening my door, I slid my portfolio across the bench seat, threw the strap over my shoulder and grabbed my messenger bag as well. I debated if I should knock at the front door or go around to the studio, deciding on the front door in the end. I only had to wait a few moments after knocking.

When the heavy, wood door swung open, Edward stood there with a kitchen towel tucked into the waistband of his low slung, skinny jeans, and I could smell bacon. "Come on in," he said, making a grand gesture with his arm.

As I stepped over the threshold, he relieved me of my bag and portfolio while I bent to take my shoes off. I slid them into the spot I had always put my shoes, and when I opened the front closet to hang my coat, the black hanger I always used was waiting for me. I'm sure a quick moment of recognition flashed across my face, so I was glad my back was facing him.

"I made a frittata for breakfast. I hope you don't mind that I cooked. I wasn't really sure if you'd have time to get anything to eat before you came over." His words spilled out quickly as if he were nervous.

"Actually, I had coffee, and I have a cereal bar in my bag, but I can't turn down your cooking. It smells great."

"Well, come in to the dining room," he said as he walked ahead of me. When I saw the table, I couldn't help the look of shock on my face. "Yeah," he paused. "I went a little overboard, I realize, but … well … ah fuck, Jasper. Why the hell not go overboard? We may as well have a good breakfast before we get to work. I have Bloody Marys, too, just in case you'd like a little something to help you relax. I figured we'd both be nervous about this so I thought alcohol would be a good thing. Shall we?" he asked as he gestured to the chairs.

I sat down and nodded in appreciation at the way he had set the table, from the royal blue cloth napkins to the low centerpiece of fresh daffodils. He stood across from me and looked at the table as if he were making sure he had everything in place.

"Would you like a Bloody Mary or something else? I have orange juice and coffee as well," he offered.

"Ah. Sure, why not? I'll take a Bloody Mary, but make sure you make it spicy."

"Oh, I know, Jasper. Why don't you come in the kitchen, and you can add as much hot sauce as you'd like, okay?"

I nodded and stood, following him into the familiar room. It looked exactly the same as I surveyed around. The robin's egg blue and light sage dishes were set off by the darker green on the walls. I didn't know if I was expecting it to look different, but I certainly didn't expect it to feel the same. It did, and I felt at home there.

He had all the makings for our drinks set on the counter, and after filling my glass with ice, I started to mix my drink. "Do you want me to make yours, too, Edward?"

"Sure. You know better what I like than I do. You're the bartender."

I smiled as we took up our customary roles. He pulled a few more things from the fridge and disappeared into the dining room before I joined him with two drinks in hand. As we both sat across from each other, we each took a few sips to judge our drinks.

"Perfect. You always make the best drinks," he said, smiling around his glass before taking another sip.

"Thanks. So, what do you want to talk about today?" I asked as he placed a slice of frittata on my plate.

"I think we need to discuss how we want to set up the gallery to start. Do we want our pieces separated or do we want to commingle them?" he asked as he passed me a bowl of fresh cut fruit.

"Well, I hadn't thought we would ever delineate our works so severely. My impression had been that we'd mix things together to help tell a story, to make people think as they moved around the space. What about you?" I asked.

"I agree. Are we going to set it up so there's a defined path or order we want people to view the works, or is it going to be more of a freely amorphous journey?"

"I think that depends on how our pieces are grouped, but I'm not a huge proponent of a defined path. It seems too stolid. I'd prefer our guests to be able to move about as they best see fit," I admitted, thinking back to a showing we had attended only last year where I felt more like cattle than a participant and that wasn't the artist's intention at all. If it had been, then his mission would have been accomplished.

"Great. We're on the same page to have groupings, right?" I nodded my assent before he continued. "Are we going to group by medium, emotional response we want to elicit, color, subject matter, or something else?"

Our breakfast continued like that, working out the details we now could considering most of our pieces were complete. We each had a second drink before we cleaned up the dishes and moved to the studio. A nice light buzz had set in for me, and I was truly grateful that Edward had thought ahead of our looming nerves.

The way we were working together was simply phenomenal to me. It was as if nothing bad had ever happened between us. As I walked into the studio with my portfolio and bag, I was surprised and taken aback at how different it looked. Edward had tried, it seemed, to make the desk seem less empty by spreading his things out, but it actually made it seem even more naked. When I set my stuff down on the daybed, he began moving his things back to "his side" of the desk.

"If you'd like to leave any of your things here, you're welcome to. That way you won't have to carry them back and forth each day this week." He offered this without making eye contact with me and in a low voice that betrayed some emotion I couldn't place.

"Do you have most of your pieces here or at least images of them?" I asked, effectively changing the subject because I wasn't sure how I felt about that. "I don't have everything, but we can meet on campus someday to see the rest. Let me show you what I have," I said as I started to pull things out of my portfolio. "I have them grouped by subject matter right now, but we may find something that works better."

The rest of the morning we poured over nearly half of the pieces I had brought, discussing how I felt they fit in with "Confessions" and then he'd give me his interpretation. On occasion, we'd reverse it with him sharing his impressions first.

Just after noon, Edward mentioned eating lunch. He reached above his head and stretched, leaning back in his chair and exposing a sliver of pale skin on his stomach. As hard as I tried to look away, my eyes were drawn to the fine, dark line of hair that disappeared into his waistband. I had to turn my body away before a groan escaped and was successful in suppressing it, thankfully.

After a quick lunch, Edward and I continued to work in the studio as the sun beat through the overhead windows. He eventually pulled the blinds shut so we wouldn't overheat. But honestly, I was already overheating, and it had nothing to do with the intense spring sun.

I was hyperaware of his every movement: the way his long fingers slid through his silky bronze hair, the soft inhalation of breath he took before he spoke … even the sound of his tongue sliding across his lips and teeth as he concentrated. I had been fighting with myself the entire morning, trying to get myself to ignore these things, but it was nearly impossible.

The longer we worked together, the closer our bodies came. While initially we had been each sitting at "our" respective desks, we were now sitting at "mine." If he wanted to look at something in more detail, he'd lean across my body, touching my arm, getting close enough for me to take in his scent. It was sweet torture I had been able to manage until the noon sun started to work it's way across the room.

"I've been wondering how we'd like people to be greeted as they walk through the doors of the gallery," he said after a particularly long lull in conversation. I hadn't really thought about it and hummed as I pondered the possibilities. "Well … uh … uhm," he stammered after a few moments, and I looked at him and quirked a brow, having no idea why he'd be so nervous.

"Come on, Edward. Just tell me. I know this is going to sound hypocritical coming from me, but I'm going to say it anyway. No secrets, okay?" I wanted him to know he should feel comfortable telling me anything.

He turned away from me, reached into his top drawer and pulled out the leather journal with the ampersand I had placed in his bag nearly two weeks prior. So he didn't throw it away. He flipped the supple cover open and passed the page I had written on, opening to my sketch.

"What about something like this?" he asked as he looked at me without even blinking. The way he stared at me made me feel like he was penetrating my soul, opening it up, asking me to reveal myself to him. I felt like I needed fresh air, but I forced myself to sit in the chair and moved my gaze back and forth between his green eyes while I tried to calm my natural reaction.

What I wanted to do was throw him down on the desk, not giving a fuck how many art supplies scattered or splintered as they hit the floor, and kiss up from the beautiful line of dark hair on his stomach. I wanted to push his flimsy cotton shirt over his pectoral muscles so I could run my tongue around the dark circles of his nipples that I could see through the fabric. I wanted to rip his pants down and suck on his cock and take his balls into my mouth and taste every inch of skin now covered by his blasted underwear.

His underwear.

What would he be wearing today? Superheroes? Skulls? Polka-fucking-dots? Whatever it was, it was bound to be amazing on his body, on the curves of his full ass, on the subtle outline of his cock, on the defined V that spoke of his fitness. I could actually picture the way the waistband traced a line from hip to hip that my tongue wanted to follow.

He was talking, and I had no idea what he was saying because all I could think about was his cock in my mouth. Fuck! This was a bad idea. Why on earth did I think I'd be able to work with him, next to him, smelling him, watching him. Fuck! I was only making it worse.

Edward looked at my drawing. I had to remind myself what we were talking about before my pants burst open from the added strain of my hard cock.

I refocused and realized he actually saw every word I had wanted to tell him beyond the ones I had said to him. He knew the parts of his body I loved and craved to touch and kiss again. There were things on that paper I had never said aloud, things I had barely allowed myself to think about.

When I had started to work on the typographical drawing, it came out of me very freely, naturally. I found myself pouring my soul onto the paper and admitting things to him … confessing so much more than my transgressions. He now knew I loved to kiss the cafe au lait birthmark that graced the back of his thigh, right below his left buttock. He knew I couldn't resist his musky scent and that it literally made my mouth water. He knew that him sleeping in my arms was the most relaxing thing in the world.

"Mmm," I clumsily started, reminding myself that he might want to use my drawing in the show. "What do you mean? You want to start with something like that? A typographical representation of the show or something?" I knew my face was pulled into a grimace, as if I had no understanding of what he wanted, but I was pretty sure I did. Heat rose in my cheeks and I'm sure my skin bloomed pink.

"Not exactly," he stated and then bit his lower lip. I tipped my head back and felt my eyes roll into the back of my head, just so I could avoid seeing his teeth press into the luscious red of his lips. When he took a breath to speak again, I tried to make eye contact but could only look down at the piece I had drawn. Looking anywhere on his face at that moment was simply too much.

"Edward? Do you mind if we take a break?" I asked, and he gave me a funny look.

"We just got back from lunch. I don't understand."

Did I just tell him I was having difficulty concentrating? Did I try to hide it?

"Uh, honestly, I'm having a really hard time keeping on task here."

In all innocence, he asked, "Oh really? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Baby," I said without thinking. With a small shake of my head, I started again. "Edward, I'm getting distracted by all the things I want to do to you right now, and I just need a few minutes. Do you mind if I go on a walk around the block?"

His eyes grew wide and he leaned back in his chair. "No. Not at all, Jasper," he said as he stood and looked at me with concern. "Is there something that I could do to make it easier?"

With my hand on the doorknob, I turned back to face him and studied him for a moment. "No, Edward. There will never be anything you could do to make yourself less desirable to me. I'll be back in a few." I made my way into the house and slipped my shoes on. As I was kneeling and tying them, I heard him enter the house as well, but I didn't look over my shoulder before I headed out his front door.

It was wonderful to be walking around his block again, yet a bit surreal. I waved at former neighbors, made some small talk with an elderly woman sweeping her front walkway and noticed all the new growth. Flowers were opening their buds on that warm, sunny day and birds were flitting about.

_I could do this. Concentrate on the art. He's just my friend._

I didn't even believe the bullshit I was feeding myself, but I had to somehow shake it off. I knew the moment I sat next to him and felt his skin on mine again, I'd be back to fantasizing.

_How could he sit there and not be affected? Perhaps he's no longer attracted to me. Maybe I was bound to be his friend for the rest of my life? Could I do that?_

I tried to let go of my toxic thoughts and ended up shaking my arms to do so. By the time I walked around the block and was striding back up Edward's driveway, I felt remarkably better. The distractions helped. Somewhat.

Rather than traipse through the house, I walked around his garage and knocked on the studio door before opening it in hopes that I wouldn't startle him. His voice rang out loud and clear, inviting me in, and when I stepped through the door, he turned in his seat and asked if I felt better.

"I do. Thanks for asking," I said as I slipped out of my shoes. I decided to take it one step further and pulled my socks off as well. Walking on the sun warmed maple floors was a treat, and I sighed internally at the small comfort it gave me.

"While you were out, I thought we should maybe switch gears a bit so I brought out some of my stuff. Perhaps you'd like to look at it. I'd appreciate your input. What do you say?"

I nodded and sat down on the daybed across from him as he handed me several photographs of his work. It seemed prudent to stay further away, and the rest of the afternoon went over much better, without me losing control. Edward left from time to time to tend supper in the house. I wanted to help him, but he told me I should stay and work and contemplate things. "I don't want to rush you, and I have a few things to do inside," he'd say.

A little after five, Edward said supper was ready, so we packed up and went in the house. He had made my favorite stew, the one that took hours for the flavors to blend just right, and he had been working on it all day long. I shook my head and chuckled once I realized what he had been doing, and he gave me an adorably guilty smile. Once supper dishes were washed and put away, I jumped in my truck and drove the few blocks to B&O Espresso and worked my shift.

Zoë could once again sense a change and told me my aura looked more balanced and that my chakras appeared to be open. I took her word for it. It's not like I could look in the mirror and see a change. Well, that wasn't entirely true. I looked well rested and less stressed. I felt better than I had in weeks, even if I was yearning to touch Edward.

As the evening crowd started to dissipate and the noise in the coffeehouse died down to a comfortable lull, Zoë asked me if I wanted to talk about what was bothering me.

"What do you mean? You told me earlier I was balanced and open; now you're wondering what's bothering me? I don't get you sometimes," I admitted with a bit of frustration leaking through.

"Bothering may have been too strong of a word. Your second chakra is all lit up. I think you're probably feeling a lot of emotions right now that are sexually driven. Maybe you want to talk about it."

She once again had me pegged, and it blew my mind. In as polite of terms as I could, I told her about my day with Edward and how it had affected me so much that I had to leave the house to cool off. Then she shocked me.

"When was the last time you ejaculated?" Her tone was matter of fact, almost clinical, and I cringed. Thank goodness I had my back to her. "Sexual release is as important to overall health as proper nutrition and balanced meals. So how long, Jasper?" She had moved around and was now facing me.

My face was hot, and I knew I had a furious blush. This wasn't something I had ever talked about to anyone, let alone a woman, but she wouldn't back down.

"I don't know. Probably two months."

"Two months?" she shouted before she softened her voice and repeated it.

"Maybe a bit longer," I admitted and ducked my head to avoid her piercing gaze. "I told you about my depression and how I hurt Edward. I didn't think I deserved release."

"Fuck, Moptop. You need to jerk off, if nothing else. You're practically vibrating with sexual tension, and that probably didn't help much today, I'd bet. Am I right?"

"Yes. You seem to always be right. Why couldn't I have found you four months ago? All of this could have been avoided." I grew melancholy thinking about the past, and Zoë pulled me into her tiny frame.

"We were meant to find each other now, sweetie. We've been seeing each other for years, but the universe decided that now was the time. And you were able to tell me there were things wrong with your relationship with Edward. Now, you have a chance to fix those things, right?"

"I guess. I'm just having such a hard time letting him come to me. I want to keep reaching out to him, but I know he'll just run away."

She stepped back and lifted herself onto her tiptoes, attempting to put her forehead to mine, so I bent forward to accommodate her. "Jerk off, Jasper. If nothing else, take yourself in hand."

"Haha. _That's_ your advice. You are too funny, sweetie pie."

Perhaps I was emotionally exhausted, I'm not sure, but I slept like the dead that night, and I did _not_ masturbate.

#

Over the next few days, Edward and I repeated the same pattern. It was odd to go from not seeing each other for weeks to spending all day together in such an enclosed space. We even shared all of our meals together. While I still felt that pull toward him, I was able to manage it better.

I refused to masturbate, much to Zoë's chagrin, but she gave me some simple exercises to do. I didn't know why jerking off felt so wrong, but it did. Maybe it was because I was in my sister's place or because I still felt like I didn't deserve pleasure. I didn't know. I'm sure Dr. Victor would have something to say if I told him about it. I think he and Zoë would definitely be in agreement in that arena. But, I kept my hands off of my body.

Edward and I decided to get together on Saturday as well. I'm not sure it was so much that we needed to as it was that we wanted to, and Edward was quite insistent. I ended up bringing groceries for supper. He had been planning and preparing all our meals all week, and I wanted to do the same for him.

As I was chopping an onion, Edward reminded me of the cooking classes that his parents had given us for Christmas. I had completely forgotten about them in the chaos of everything.

"Maybe it won't work with your schedule right now, but I found out they have a class starting in a few weeks. It's a series of classes that teach the basics. I'm not sure what you had in mind," he said and waited for me to think about it.

"My work schedule is nice and solid right now, and I don't want to mess with that," I admitted.

"Oh, well this is offered on Sunday afternoons. And even though we both know our way around the kitchen, I think it would cover a lot we don't know. So, should I enroll us in it?"

I wasn't sure if we were ready for that considering how safe Edward had seemed to be playing things during the week. He had obviously put up some emotional barriers, and while our working relationship was good and I'd even say our friendship was healing, he made it obvious he wasn't ready for more. But I was. It was that disparity that made me question if we should take the classes. In the end, I decided to go for it. While I was standing in front of the cooktop caramelizing the onions, he called and signed us up.

After we ate, Edward wouldn't allow me to clean up the dishes and told me to wait for him in the living room while he prepared something. He was behaving oddly, so I placated him and sat on the couch and waited. He did something entirely unexpected.

When he rounded the corner, he had the most decadent looking little cake on a small dessert plate. Sticking out of the top was a long candle that was shooting sparks every which-way, and he was singing Happy Birthday to me. I watched as he made his way toward me and set the tiny cake on the coffee table as he finished singing. The grin on my face was a mile wide, and I applauded his a cappella solo.

"I didn't even know it was the twenty-second," I admitted.

"Yep. I was thrown a bit off-balance when you decided to cook, but you seemed so intent on doing it I decided not to argue. Anyway, my mom introduced me to this great little bakery several weeks ago, and I decided to get you a white chocolate raspberry cheesecake for your birthday. Hang on, I'll go get mine."

He disappeared for only a moment and returned with his plate and a low flat box wrapped in earthy, green and brown fabric tied with raffia. I tilted my head and gave him a questioning look.

"Before you say anything, Jasper, I wanted to do this and it's really small. I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable, what with our friendship just mending and all. But I wanted to celebrate with you. Now, let's eat," he said, pushing his fork into the dense cheesecake.

It was an amazing cheesecake, blending the flavors together better than I had ever tasted, and as we ate, we talked about birthdays past.

It was fun to reminisce, and he brought up his sixteenth birthday when we decided to go hiking behind his house and got lost. This was before I knew the area well, so I was of little help getting us back. He was so pissed that we were lost that he kicked a hollow log. A huge garter snake darted out the end closest to him, and he screamed like a little girl before he realized he had hurt his foot. We spent the entire afternoon trying to get home. Whenever we'd come across a mountain stream, he'd take his shoe and sock off and soak his foot in the ice-cold water. As we sat there waiting for the cold to take down the swelling and ease the pain in his big toe, we threw pebbles into the stream and talked.

On that birthday, we both shared that we wanted to be professional artists. With his foot soaking in the stream just beyond his house, he told me about his dream of working in a studio in his own backyard so he wouldn't have to work in an office or wear a tie to work. I had watched my father polish his combat boots and iron his uniforms countless times, so the idea of working in my own backyard wearing whatever was unfathomable. When I helped Edward hobble up to his parents' back door off the deck, his mom saw his predicament and threw open the door. She brought him an ice pack, and I set his heel in my lap on top of a pillow and held the cold compress to his foot until his father got home and performed a quick exam. It was nothing more than a really bad bruise, thankfully.

I ate supper at the Cullens' that night, and afterward, Edward and I slipped up to his bedroom. What I had gotten him had paled in comparison to the laptop his parents had given him, so I held the little box back and decided to present it to him in private. When he slid the cover off the unwrapped black box, I watched his face as it lit up. He pulled out the Celtic knot pendant that hung off a leather cord. It was very masculine, with sharp edges and thick interlocking silver. As he wrapped it around his neck, he turned so I could hook the metal closure for him. It sat just an inch or so below his Adam's apple, and he fingered the pendant for a moment before getting up from his bed to look at it in the mirror. The brightness in his eyes told me he loved it before his words did.

We lay on his bed together as I watched over his shoulder while he played with his new computer. I ended up sleeping in his bed that night, finally losing consciousness with my back to him. When I woke up in the morning, we were sleeping face-to-face, and our legs and arms were tangled together.

As we mused over birthdays past, we finished our cheesecakes and got comfortable on the couch. I was nervous about the gift he had bought me, not knowing how to accept something, but I told myself I would have bought him a gift for his birthday as well.

After a time, he handed me the fabric-covered box, and I admired it. "I see you decided to go the environmental route, huh?"

"Jasper, I've been going the environmental route on your birthday since I realized you were born on Earth Day. It just makes sense," he said matter of factly. "Now, open it, please."

I untied the raffia ribbon and slowly pulled at he fabric. When I lifted the lid off the flat box, I didn't know what I was looking at. There was a round wooden handle with several metal pieces coming out the end. The metal appeared to be copper and the end of each thick wire-like arm was rounded. Perhaps if I held it, I'd figure out what it was. When I held the wooden handle in my hand, I still had no clue, so I turned my hand so that the metal pieces looked like a capital C. Was it an art piece? It was beautiful in its own right, but that didn't seem right.

"Okay, Edward. I give up. What is it?"

His smirk broke open, and he burst out laughing, bending over to try to catch his breath. "Your face. Oh my God. Your face was so funny. I wish I would've video taped that. I don't think I've ever seen you so confused and so deep in concentration before."

"Ha. Ha," I said dryly and tilted my head, letting him know I was waiting for my answer. "Seriously, what is it?"

"Here, let me show you." He took the object from me and started to bend the malleable wires, spreading them apart so they were evenly spaced around the handle. It sort of looked like an eggbeater for a giant and I still had no idea of its purpose. "Come here and sit on the edge of the couch."

I moved as he instructed, and he slid in behind me. He sat up on his knees and pressed his inner thighs against me, effectively straddling my ass. I could feel the heat coming off of his chest, and it took everything in me to not turn around and kiss him. Having him so close was torturous.

And then he moved closer.

Pressing his chest into my back as he adjusted his legs beneath him, I would have sworn I could feel his heart beating. My breathing was shallow as I tried to avoid smelling his intoxicating scent that seemed to be swimming around me.

"This is a scalp massager," he started. "Now, close your eyes and just let it do its magic."

My lids closed, and Edward placed a warm hand on my shoulder. In a circular pattern, I felt the rounded ends of the metal wires touch my scalp, and then he pushed down. Courses of pleasure traveled in a rush down my neck, splitting into rivers across my torso and branching further into streams down my limbs. My groin tingled as he slid the wire contraption up and down my scalp. Each time he pressed down, the watercourse of bliss would start again, and I felt it building deep in my belly.

"Fuck, Edward. You have to stop. I think I might come from that alone," I groaned and my eyes shot open as I realized how my body was reacting. My cock was hard. I'm sure not having an orgasm for months wasn't helping the situation at all, but still! It was my fucking head—the one above my shoulders—that he'd been touching, not the one between my legs, so why the fuck was I about to come?

I stood up and started to pace the living room, trying to calm myself, but I could still feel the tendrils of pleasure ghosting just beneath my skin.

"I'm sorry, Jasper. I didn't mean … that's not— Oh, God!" he stammered. His face was red, and it was obvious he had no idea what would happen to me. Or perhaps he did know.

"Have you ever tried this thing?" I asked incredulously and leaned forward, waiting for his answer. All of a sudden, the ridiculousness of the situation hit me, and I started to laugh.

"Jasper, I seriously had no clue you'd respond like that. I bought it for you because I thought it would help with stress. The woman at the store talked about all the nerve endings in our scalps that can help release tension over our entire bodies, and I thought of you. That's it. Honest." He finished and leaned back into the couch as if he had just confessed some horrible truth and was awaiting my reaction.

I moved next to him and grabbed the massager before sitting. When I moved the device toward his head, he gave me a leery look but allowed me to put it on his head. As I pressed down, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he released a guttural sigh.

"Fuck, Jasper. Don't stop. Oh my god. It's like heaven." I didn't stop but rotated the handle so I'd reach new points on his head. "Mmm. This is amazing." His voice dropped to a lower octave and became much softer. "Fuck. Slower. Go slower." I swallowed loudly as my erection returned, simply from the sound of his voice, and I ceased my movements. "Don't stop. I need more."

I stood. "And I need you to stop fucking talking like that, Edward." While my voice started out strong, by the time I got to his name, I was practically whining. When I turned to face him, I saw the copper crown still sitting in his bronze hair. He was unaware of how silly he looked, and that only made me want to hold him more than his suggestive phrases had. "Prince Edward," I said under my breath, thinking immediately of Rosalie's jibe earlier in the week.

As I sat next to him again, I had every intention of simply removing the massager, but my body had very different ideas. I lifted the metal and wood contraption off his scalp and set it on the couch. He looked down at it and then slowly back to me again. I ran my fingers through his tousled hair and tried to make it lay right again, but the moment I made contact, my hands slipped to the base of his skull, and I pulled him to me.

My eyes closed as I tilted my head before pressing my lips to his. They were as warm and soft as I remembered, but the roughness of his evening scruff bit at my tender skin. I opened my mouth, trying to entice him to join in, but he only pulled away after a chaste kiss on my lips.

"Jasper. No. I can't do this."

I sat back and looked into his green eyes and knew at that moment I was about to say something that might affect our friendship forever. But it was worth the risk.

"Edward. I can't _not_ do this. I need you. I can no longer pretend that I don't crave you every minute you're near me. Every night I fall asleep dreaming of being in your arms again. I've held myself back all week."

"But our friendship," he interjected.

"I want more than your friendship, Edward. I want your love."

"But…"

He was silent, but I gave him a few moments just in case he was going to speak before I finally said, "Love is friendship set on fire."* My voice was quiet but self-assured. "You're burning inside of me, and I don't want to put those flames out. I can't. I want all of you, and I'm not sure I can do without."

I stood and picked up our dirty dishes returning them to the kitchen before I returned to the living room to grab my gift.

"Thank you for the gift and the cheesecake, Edward," I sighed, pain written all over my face. He sat on the couch cross-legged tracing the stitching on the seam of the leather and following his finger's movements with his eyes. He looked lost.

"I'm going to go," I gestured in the direction of his entryway. "I'll be working on campus Monday if you want to see some of my pieces there." He stayed silent. "Thanks again. Bye, Edward." I turned to leave, and he remained seated as I gathered my things and left.

Was it worth it? Maybe I was asking too much of him. But if that was the case, then I needed to have more defined boundaries, too. I needed things to be less confusing and heart-wrenching. We needed time apart.

#

When I got home, I found Edward had sent the leather journal home with me, and I didn't know if I wanted to look at it. Around midnight, I slipped into Rose's guest bed and slowly opened the sketchbook. I was nervous and really had no clue what to expect.

I was surprised to see a perspective drawing in muted colors like he was looking down on the picture from high in a tree through fog. There was a large labyrinth that seemed to be made up of gigantic tulips, and in the center, a figure sat: knees pulled against the chest, arms wrapped around shins, and face hidden against knees. It was Edward. The only reason I knew it was him was because of the hair. Everything seemed to be out of scale as if he were Alice in Wonderland after she drank from the bottle. The tulips towered over him. On the outside of the maze was a large tree next to a stream and a curly-haired man stood next to it. That was definitely me. I was leaning against the trunk with my head back and soaking up the sunlight that was only shining down on me. It was obvious that the small figure couldn't see beyond the flowers and had sat down, perhaps from exhaustion.

Although I studied it, I had no clue what to make of it. It made me feel sad and lonely. He obviously felt we were separated. I eventually brought it to Zoë on Sunday to see what she could make of it. Her face fell as she considered it, and I knew she felt the despair in the work as I had.

#

Edward and I didn't see each other for the next several days. I was afraid we might be done, from his perspective. Not from mine.

For days, I ended up at Zoë's house talking to her until all hours of the night after our shift ended. She knew the sorrow I felt. How could she not? Thick and silent tears fell each time I talked to her, and the only comfort I had was when I'd brush my thumb over my left wrist. I could feel the leather cuff still like it had been burned into my skin, and Zoë asked about it, once again.

"Do you miss it?"

"Yes," I answered in a whisper.

"Why? It was just a piece of leather."

"It was so much more. It represented the last seven years of my life; all of it was pressed into that cuff. Not only was he there, but part of me was as well. I can't just throw that away as easily as he has. Not now that I'm finally letting all these emotions flow through me."

"Why don't you get it back?" she wondered.

I shook my head and turned onto my side, curling my body into the fetal position as she trailed her fingers through my curls. "I just can't."

"I have an idea," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

* * *

*Jeremy Taylor (1613-1667)

**Edit: 3/6/2012**


	31. Freedom

**Freedom**

I pulled back.

I simply had to.

As much as I wanted to spend every day with Edward, eating breakfast in his dining room, nibbling on fruit and sandwiches at the desk in the studio, and finishing up our time together with a home cooked meal, my heart just couldn't do it. He wasn't ready, and there was nothing I could do to make him want me as much as I wanted him.

I missed him though.

Over two weeks had passed since my birthday. We still saw each other on campus, made decisions together, and had a good professional relationship. Most of our conversations were kept to business, and when it would veer toward the personal, each of us seemed to be holding back and keeping much unsaid. The leather sketchbook stayed in my bag, only to be pulled out on occasion as I tried to figure out what Edward had tried to communicate in the drawing of him sitting alone with me standing just out of sight. I tried to sketch something to let him know how I felt, but I was afraid of pushing him even further away.

I worked. I created. I freelanced. And I spent a lot of time talking to my new friend.

Zoë had become so important to me in such a short time. I was never one to easily open up and make friends, but she stepped into my life and made a spot for herself. If she hadn't been around, I'm sure my emptiness would have been so much worse. But Zoë really lived up to her name: life. She had the capacity to think outside the box. Creatively, I did this on a regular basis, but when it came to my life and the crap I carried with me from my childhood, it was much harder. I was challenged by her and pushed and occasionally dragged away from comfortable patterns. In the end, she knew what she was doing, and I would inevitably thank her.

Saturday night was no exception. I had driven my truck to her house and sat while she finished getting ready.

"So, where's this party?" I asked trying to get more information out of her.

"Lilly … Lexi … Lindsay's … I don't remember. Something like that."

"We're going to a party at some chick's house, and you don't know her name. How did you meet her?"

"No, silly. I just forgot, and it's not at her place. It's at her uncle's or nephew's. For some reason, she had to change the location last minute. I've met her a few times through different friends, and she's really fun to talk to. She just started her own party planning business and wanted people to come over to try out some of her new recipes. I think this is some kind of practice for a wedding or some-other-thing. It's free food and a night out, and I figured we could use a night together that didn't include wiping down counters or thinking about lost love. So, let's just go and make merry."

"You do remember that I can be a tad introverted, right?" I was starting to wonder if she knew me as well as I had thought.

"I know you can initially be shy, but come on, you've been a fucking model. You can't be all that shy and still get naked in front of a huge art class," she challenged.

"That was my job, Zoë, and I wasn't there to chit-chat or make idle conversation with the room full of people. One-on-one, I'm cool. It's the large gatherings with a lot of strangers who want to talk that I have problems with. In fact, I'm dreading all the mingling I'll have to do at my art show," I admitted.

"Okay, fine. It was your job. And yes, I see that you prefer to work behind the espresso machine rather than in front of it, but you're charming and sweet and fucking sexy. People love you. They can't even resist you. I've seen it at B&O, sweets. Besides, Jasper, you do need to get out and make some more friends." She paused for a few seconds. "I heard there may be a gay boy or two there tonight. Come on!" she urged as if I'd been the one holding up the show.

We ended up walking since it was a little over a mile and the weather was starting to warm. There was no rain in the forecast, and the moon was full and high in the sky when we started out.

"Tell me what kind of guy you like, Jasper," she requested.

I was silent as we walked, trying to think about what attracted me to a man. "Honestly, I'm not sure I really know," I confessed. "He has to have soulful eyes. I want to be able to look at him and see what he feels and maybe someday get to know what he's thinking about with just a glance. Blonds aren't my thing. I don't really want to date a bear, a muscle man, or a twink. What I want is a guy that takes care of himself but isn't obsessed with his body." I sighed thinking how Edward was exactly what I wanted, but I kept that to myself. No need to state the obvious.

"Beyond anything, Zoë, I just want someone to share the rest of my life. I want him to be funny, to get my humor. I want him to have the same values I have and to support me in my dreams. What he looks like isn't nearly as important as all of that," I finished and tipped my head back acting like I was looking at the stars. I was simply trying to keep my tears from falling because I'd already found the perfect man and let him slip away. Now, I had to let him go and hope against hope that he'd come back to me.

Zoë reached for my hand and interlaced her tiny fingers between mine. She knew exactly how I was feeling; there was no point in trying to ever attempt hiding from her. "Maybe tonight we'll find you a boy to take on a few dates. I'm not sure we'll find everything else, but a guy to go out with from time to time would be nice. Who knows?"

As we walked the familiar streets of the Capitol Hill district, I saw houses I knew well because we were headed toward Edward's neighborhood. When we turned down his street, I still didn't think much of it, but when she stopped in front of the dark blue bungalow and announced, "This is it," I about died.

"What do you mean 'This is it'?" I looked at her unknowing face and scowled.

"What? I don't get it. What's wrong?" She was utterly confused by my reaction.

"This is Edward's house. Are you sure you have the address right?"

She opened her phone, pulled up her calendar and showed me the address. "This is it. I guess my friend knows your Edward, huh?"

I looked down at the familiar concrete, the same sidewalk where I had shoveled snow and edged the grass. Shaking my head, I admitted, "I'm not sure about this. I'm going to go in there, and all my feelings are going to come bubbling to the surface, and I'm going to want to act on things that I know I shouldn't."

"We don't have to go. It's just a tasting party anyway. Come on," she grabbed my elbow and started to walk away. "Let's go bowling or something. Or how about catching a late movie?"

By the time we got to the end of the block, I had changed my mind and found myself turning back toward the house. "No, let's at least go in and make an appearance. I've worked with Edward on campus. Things are weird, but I can do it. I do have to admit it's a hell of a lot harder at his place, so please, stick close to me, okay?" I asked with pleading in my eyes.

"We don't have to do this," she stated in a stern voice, but I shrugged her off. "No, Moptop." She stopped in her tracks and pulled on my hand until I faced her. "I'm serious. I had no idea this was Edward's house or I never would've even suggested we come."

"I can't keep running like this. I'm going to have to see him over and over again because of school or mutual friends or maybe even future work. It might be easier with you here. Just be your charming self, and I'll be the wallflower like at work." I smiled at her, hoping my slight teasing would get her to finally turn and walk to his door. My feet moved more freely up his walk and front steps than I expected, and I knocked with confidence on the heavy door.

"You're sure?" Zoë whispered to me right before the door swung open to reveal Alice, whose eyes landed to my right, completely missing me.

"Oh my God, Zoë. I'm so glad you could make it. I can't wait to introduce you to some of my friends. Bella's here too, so you finally get to meet her."

I cleared my throat and drew her gaze up to me.

"Jasper? What…?" She shifted her attention back to Zoë. "Wait, is this the guy you were telling me about that just went through a really bad break up?"

"Yes, but apparently, you two know each other?" Zoë said.

I finally spoke up. "Zoë, Alice is Edward's cousin and my friend. We've known each other for years."

"Could this night get weirder?" Zoë asked.

"Considering how it started, yes, I would say it could," I speculated.

Alice wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling herself up, and I supported her around her waist as her feet left the ground. "It's so good to see you, Jasper. I've been so worried about you. Rose said you'd practically wasted away." She withdrew, and I set her down. "Speaking of weird, Rose and Emmett are here, so yes, it just got weirder."

Laughing, I shook my head and tucked my hands in the front pockets of my jeans as I stepped over the familiar threshold. I moved to kick my shoes off, and Alice shook her head at me, silently telling me to keep them on. It felt strange to wear shoes in Edward's house.

In the dining room, she directed us to tray upon tray of bite-sized appetizers and desserts and encouraged us to take a plate and help ourselves. We made sure to try a variety of options, and Zoë and I found ourselves making delightful noises at all the wonderful flavors and commenting on how well the tastes complimented one another.

The house was simply decorated, nothing like Alice's usual over-the-top soirees, but this was really about the food, not the decor. In the living room, I found my sister and Emmett standing near the fireplace and made my way to them with Zoë in tow. They both looked shocked when they registered my face, and Emmett pulled me into a quick hug and slapped me on the back when he withdrew.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he chuckled.

"I came with my friend Zoë, who happens to know Alice." I nearly added "almost" but bit my tongue. "Zoë, this is my sister Rosalie and her boyfriend Emmett. Guys, this is my good friend Zoë."

"It's so good to finally meet you," my sister said, smiling and shaking Zoë's hand. "Jasper's told us so much about you, and I'm so glad you've been there for my baby brother."

"Rose!" I warned, not appreciating her calling me a baby, but it did no good. Rosalie already had her arm around Zoë and was talking to her in a hushed voice as they walked away. I rolled my eyes, fearing what my sister was going to say and dreading not having Zoë by my side.

Emmett leaned in fairly close to me, resting his forearm on the fireplace mantle. "Edward's around, in case you're wondering, but he's not really being Mr. Social tonight." I appreciated the information and gave an exaggerated nod.

After several moments of silence and a quick perusal of the people in the room, I turned to him and asked, "How long have you known about this?"

"I think Rose has known for a few weeks, but it was never going to be here. Alice called earlier today and said that she had to move the party. Anyway, it was a bit tense for Rose and Edward at first, but she didn't do or say anything to fuck it up between you two. Just thought you should know that."

"Thanks, Emmett." I looked around the room again and tried to pick out faces I knew but came up empty. "Who are these people, and how the hell did she ever get Edward to agree to this?"

"I only know a few people. You know Alice, the social butterfly who knows half of Seattle. I have no clue how she talked Edward into this, but she did. I overheard Bella talking about plumbers, so maybe something happened. Not really sure. Just a guess," he finished with a shrug.

Just then, Rosalie and Zoë rejoined us with beers in hand for all. As I tipped mine back, I heard the deep resonant voice I knew better than my own. My eyes closed and I froze, stopping the flow of beer with my tongue as I heard him nearing the living room. Rushing fear washed through my torso and I lowered my bottle, setting it on the fireplace hearth. Rosalie was eyeing me, scrutinizing me when I met her gaze. She immediately went into protective mode. I could see it in the set of her jaw, so I gave her the softest smile I could, one that would reassure her I was fine. But I really wasn't. I wanted to leave, but I did the next best thing. I headed for the backyard.

Round, clear lights were wrapped around the outside of the studio and strung between several supports that had been pounded into the ground, bathing the area in light. The yard was devoid of people though a few small cafe tables and chairs were set up on the patio. I stepped beyond the lights into the lush green of the grass toward something new near the back of the yard. Away from the warmth of the lights, I shuddered and was glad I wore a long sleeve shirt. When I heard the back door open and shut, I turned to see Zoë joining me.

"Hey. You okay?" she wondered.

"Yeah. I just needed a minute."

"Do you want me out here with you, or would you rather be alone?"

I turned away to look at the yard, trying to make out the shapes of familiar trees and shrubs as my eyes adjusted to the dim light beyond, and I contemplated my answer. Taking a deep breath, I smelled the heady scent of new blooms; from where, I wasn't sure, but it was grounding.

"Nah. I'm good. Go in and mingle. Maybe you can find Alice and your other friends." I didn't hear her leave, so I turned back and smiled, letting her know I would be fine without her.

As soon as I heard her shut the door, I walked into the darkness near the back of the yard, sensing the privacy around me. The sounds of spring insects coming out for the nighttime gathering seemed to grow in my ears. I stopped for a moment when I saw a new flowerbed. It was circular and full of red and creme tulips surrounded by their green, spear-like leaves.

Stepping closer, I saw that the bulbs had been planted in a labyrinth and I made my way to the center. The walkway was covered in a very dark material that made a satisfying crunching sound. After several steps, I could smell what seemed to be chocolate and I realized I was walking on cocoa bean hull mulch.

This wasn't the spiritual journey that I had taken on the stone labyrinth. My goal this time was to be in the center, surrounded by Edward's flowers, just as he had been in his drawing. Once there, I turned in place and looked at all the knee high tulips, wonder taking over as I thought about how Edward had to have planted these in the fall. How had I missed it? How did he know? I slowly shook my head as I tried to figure it out.

"It was a coincidence." Edward's voice was quiet but confident behind me. I hadn't heard the door and didn't know he had joined me. I kept my eyes averted, studying the blooms. "Or fate, whichever you believe in. When you told me that tulips were your favorite flower on Christmas Eve, I was surprised. The fact that the two colors I had planted in the fall just so happen to grace our breakfast table that morning and had such significant meanings was pure chance." I could sense him coming closer, ever so slowly. "As you can see, the shape of the flowerbed is the only thing here that was planned. It was all you drew for so long. I knew it had to mean something to you." He was so close. Just on the other side of the flowers.

"It was the one thing that made sense at the time," I admitted as he entered the maze and started to walk. "It helped me see that my journey was important even though it was so difficult."

"I started to study labyrinths and quickly found out their significance. It was understandable that you were drawing them and the pattern seemed to soothe you." He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I wanted you to have a place to go to meditate and think, so I decided to plant this. So much had happened to you by that point, and I knew you needed a space to clear your head. I wanted it to be a surprise for you this spring. I wish you could've seen them earlier when they were just opening or at their prime. Many things are planted here besides tulips though, so when they're spent, wildflowers and poppies will bloom." As he made his way around the labyrinth, he came closer to me, passing in front of me several times, but my eyes stayed down. "I guess I was trying to take care of you again, trying to find a way to make you feel like you belonged here … with me."

He stood behind me, and I could feel the heat of his chest radiating onto my back. His hands were on my hips, and he was sliding them around my waist, interlocking his fingers atop my navel. Every nerve in my body seemed to respond to his touch, and I was suddenly aware of only him.

"You've always belonged here with me, Jasper. But now you're gone." I could hear the shakiness in his breaths even though his voice was steady. "And it's my fault. I miss you." He buried his nose behind my ear and took in a deep breath. "I'm so afraid to trust you again, but it's even more frightening to consider not having you in my life for even one more day."

I turned in his arms and finally looked into his sylvan eyes, feeling the serenity in them. I couldn't help reaching for him as if some invisible tether was pulling me in. Cupping his face in my hands, I traced his features with my thumbs: his eyebrows, his high cheekbones, his strong nose, the curve of his lush red lips. Finally, I pushed his bronze locks off his forehead, noticing the way the moonlight lit up the fiery mess. His eyes stayed on mine the entire time and his breathing evened out. As much as I wanted to crush my lips to his, I refrained, unwilling to jeopardize our chances because of my intensity.

His eyes lazily closed, and he pushed my hands from his face, wrapping his fingers around my palms and pulling them behind his back instead. They settled low on his back as if they fit in his arch perfectly. With my eyes still open, I watched as his hands moved below my ears and he drew me toward his mouth with his fingers buried in my curls. But it wasn't my mouth he was going for. Starting above my right eyebrow, he barely touched his nose and lips to my skin and softly dragged across my forehead then down my cheek. He trailed across my nose to the other cheek where he dropped to the line of my jaw and followed it over my chin to the other side of my face. My skin felt alive as if millions of nerve endings had been awoken. Peppering tiny kisses in front of my left ear, I could hear his lips part, his tongue moving in his mouth, and a quick intake of breath.

"Please, come back to me," he whispered so softly. "I want you … so badly."

My breath hitched at his words, and I felt my heart pounding in my chest. Tears quickly formed, so I closed my eyes to try to keep them at bay, but one trailed down my cheek. He deserved to see how his words affected me, so I opened my eyes again.

"Are you sure about this, Edward?"

He looked me in the eye and smirked.

"Are you kidding? I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Isn't that my line?" I teased, thinking back to the night our lives changed eight months prior.

"Yes, it is. And honestly, I'm absolutely terrified," he confessed with a haunted look in his eyes. "But what you said a few weeks ago … I've thought about it again and again."

"Thought about what, Edward?"

"Friendship. Love. Fire. All of it. I've folded in on myself and tried to shut out the feelings I have for you, attempting to convince myself that friendship was possible. It's possible, but I don't want that. I want more, like you. I want to be able to reach out and touch you, pull you in for a kiss, and call you my love again. I want to feel free. And I no longer want to feel trapped and alone. I've imprisoned myself long enough."

Emotions gripped my throat as he spoke words I never thought I'd hear from him. I tried to speak, but no sound could escape the clutches around my throat. I wanted so badly to lean in and kiss him, to show him what my voice was unable to say, but I waited. There was no way I was going to make him run away again, so I remained silent, trying to swallow the thickness away.

"My parents, Alice, and even Emmett have been prodding me, trying to get me off my ass and out of my own head for weeks now. They've all said, in their own way, that we belong together. I tried to deny it. I tried to will it away. I tried to keep it platonic and professional." A labored sigh was released, and as his breath passed my lips, I could taste him on my tongue. My mouth watered, and I was finally able to open my throat.

"Sit with me?" he asked as he lowered himself to the mulch where I quickly joined him. We sat cross-legged, knees touching each other's, and he reached to take my hands in his. As his rough skin fingered my palms, I closed my eyes. I wanted to feel every moment of this. If this was the reunion that I prayed for, I wanted to remember how it felt for years to come. If it wasn't, I wanted to savor his touch.

He pulled my right palm up, and I felt his soft, full lips kiss the sensitive flesh below my thumb, teasing across my wrist before trailing his mouth up the outside of my hand. It tickled in the most wonderful way. Flipping my hand over, he kissed across my knuckles and up to my wrist.

"I've missed your hands, so much. I've missed watching them draw." He continued to place his lips on my needy flesh while he talked, and I kept my eyes shut, trying to drink in the moment and accept every last second of it into my soul. "I've missed watching your fingers trail through your unruly, golden curls. I've missed your nervous habit of squeezing them into fists when you're concentrating or feel angry."

I felt him shift his body in front of me, but I squeezed my eyes tighter. I could smell him. I could feel his body heat. He set my hand down next to my knee, and I felt him slide his body weight over my legs as he straddled my hips and sat in my lap. Pulling my hands, he wrapped them around his body, and I gladly traced the planes of his back, all the while allowing only my sense of smell, touch, and hearing guide me.

"I've missed your hands on my body, Jasper. I've missed the way you light me up and ground me at the same time. I've missed the way your fingers leave trails of fire hours after you've touched me."

"My God, Edward." I could say no more.

"Look at me, love. I need to see your eyes."

Taking a steadying breath, I looked into his soulful eyes that I could read so well. The corner of his mouth turned into a wonderful, crooked smile, and I found my eyes studying his lips. I watched his tongue and teeth as he prepared to speak.

"I've been afraid of losing you from the start," he admitted, and I looked at his sad eyes. "Remember my dreams, my nightmares?" I nodded. "They were about you even though I didn't realize it until recently. Most of the time I was in my parents' backyard by our tree or overlooking the stream. You would always come behind me and touch me, bringing me such pleasure, but I didn't know it was you. I didn't know who was touching me, and every time I thought about it and tried to turn to see who it was, he'd leave me. I'd be alone, cold, and scared. That's when I'd wake up."

"You were always so shaken when you'd wake up and even though you never told me about them, I always thought it had something to do with me. I don't know why," I acknowledged.

"The dream changed about a month ago. I spoke for the first time in my dream and called out, 'Come back to me.' And you did. It was you."

"What do you think it means, Edward?" I wondered.

He leaned into me, resting his head on my shoulder, and I pulled him tight to my chest, feeling his heart beating through my shirt. Our breathing was soon following the same pattern. "I think it's about faith and trust," he said quietly as his lips rubbed against my neck while he spoke. "I have to have faith that you love me like you say you do and I have to trust in that love. I used to be fearful that you would leave me for a woman; that I was just an experiment. When I realized that wasn't going to happen, I became afraid I wasn't … enough, somehow. Over and over again, fears grabbed at me, but it usually happened when I slept. Rarely did I think of these things when I was awake. I was too busy being thankful for the time we were allowed."

"You are everything I've ever wanted, Edward." I sat back so I could see him and so he could see me. "Everything! You're more than I even knew I wanted. You've given all of yourself to me, and what have I done? Cheated. Lied. Hurt you. But I don't want to live without you. I can't."

"I can't live without you either, Jasper. I forgive you. I want you."

Time seemed to slow as I brought my mouth to his, but I stopped before they could touch. Our lips were parted, and we were both allowing small puffs of air to slip past. The moisture from his warm breath landed on my lips, and I moaned at the sensation, the scent of him, the anticipation of his kiss, but something made me wait. It should be him. I wanted him to be in control of this moment, so I waited.

He rested his forearms on my shoulders, and I felt him tangle his fingers in my curls, massaging my scalp and scratching me with his short nails. So softly that I could barely hear it, even in the stillness of the night, he whispered, "I love you," before his mouth covered my own.

It was like heaven to have his satiny mouth tasting mine again. His tongue slid across my bottom lip, and I opened to him, meeting his tongue in the middle. I wanted this kiss to be a partnership. I wanted it to unite us. As our mouths met again and again, exploring, confessing, forgiving, I couldn't keep my hands still. My palms ran soothingly up and down his back, and I found myself grasping onto his ass and pulling him closer to me.

"Fuck, I want you, Edward. Please," I softly begged. "I want to feel you."

"Jasper. I want that so much. God, I want you, but we can't."

"Why not?" I asked in a whispered whine.

"Because we have a fricking audience," he said before placing a full, tender kiss on my mouth. "Alice, Bella, Rose, Emmett, and your friend Zoë are standing behind you on the patio watching us. You should see the silly grins on their faces."

I pulled back, resting my hands on Edward's ass, and looked over my shoulder to see our friends and my sister smiling. When they saw us looking Alice and Zoë started to jump up and down like bouncing bookends and Emmett pulled Rosalie into his side and kissed her on top of her head. They were obviously very happy for us. Rather than sit there surrounded by tulips, we pulled ourselves up and walked out of the labyrinth, trying to calm ourselves before we stepped into the light. Edward held my hand as we joined our friends on the patio where we were met with hugs and kisses. I refused to let go of his hand though or lose contact with his side.

Rosalie whispered in my ear, "You know I love you, and I love Edward. Be good to each other and be honest, but take baby steps. There's no need to rush when you have the rest of your lives." I couldn't help but smile at her words and her wisdom.

"When was the last time I told you how intelligent you are? 'Cause you are, sis." I winked and pulled away only to be attacked by Zoë, who basically did a double attack including Edward.

"Okay, okay. I can see we're all just a bit excited about this little reunion. Alice, don't you have a party to hostess?" I joked. What I really wanted was a few more minutes alone with Edward. I knew we weren't going to hop into bed, but I felt like we had some things we needed to talk about.

We parted with promises of joining everyone inside soon, and then Edward and I sat at a cafe table. Zoë quickly slipped outside delivering us two beers and giving us each a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, sweetie. I'll be in soon, and whenever you're ready, we can walk home, okay?" She nodded and left us.

"Wow. That was bizarre," Edward said.

"I hope they didn't hear me begging," I laughed, but since no one had mentioned it, I assumed they hadn't.

"I think you're safe. You were barely whispering, love."

"It's probably a good thing we got the audience when we did," I speculated, and he chuckled and nodded in agreement. "So, where does this leave us?" I felt like I had to ask and he got very serious.

"I meant everything I said, Jasper. I want you. I want you to be my boyfriend again. I want to be your partner … your lover … eventually."

"Eventually," I repeated as I brushed my thumb across his kiss-swollen lower lip. "Yeah, let's not jump so fast that we don't fix things, okay? Not that I don't want to, mind you," I admitted.

"Yes, I think I got that impression already," he smiled. "Tomorrow? Cooking classes? Do you still want to go?" he asked.

"Definitely! What time?"

We continued talking for a few more minutes before we returned to the party inside. I offered to stay and help clean up, but Edward and Alice wouldn't hear of it. Zoë was nearly ready to leave, and I told her I was going to say goodbye to Edward before meeting her on the front porch. He joined me on the familiar stoop and wrapped his arms around my waist. My fingers went immediately to his hair.

"I don't want you to leave," he said into my neck.

"I know, baby, but I have to walk Zoë home."

He leaned back and smiled at me. "She's been a really good friend to you, hasn't she?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure how I would've managed without her. Don't get me wrong, Rosalie and Emmett have been great, but Zoë is just one of a kind. She challenges me and pushes me. She's really wonderful, and I hope you two can get to know each other."

"I hope so too, Jasper. I'll see you here tomorrow about eleven?" I nodded and rested my forehead on his. I heard the doorknob turning so I leaned in and gave him a tender kiss good-bye as Zoë joined us.

"Tomorrow," I whispered my promise before I turned and headed for the sidewalk with Zoë next to me waving back at Edward. He stood on the top step, leaning against the wooden post and watched us. Just before a tall hedge stole him from my sight, I smiled and waved at him.

We walked in silence for several blocks before Zoë finally said, "You're beaming, Jasper. I've never seen you so happy."

"I haven't felt this happy in a very long time. Or hopeful for that matter."

"He seems really nice from what I've seen. I can tell he loves you."

"Can I ask you something, Zoë, and you promise to be honest?"

"Sure, anything."

"Did you and Alice plan this?"

"What? No. Honestly, I had nothing to do with this at all. I had no clue it was going to be at Edward's house. It was supposed to be at Alice and Bella's house, but the main water line to their house broke yesterday afternoon, and they've been without water. I guess that's how Edward got dragged into it. I promise. No funny business."

We continued to walk in silence until we got to her house where I made sure she got her door unlocked before I left her. "Oh Jasper, don't forget about tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh shit. That's right. What time is the appointment?"

"Four. Pick me up, okay?"

"Sure thing, sweetie pie. Love ya. Night"

As I drove my truck toward Rosalie's house, I marveled at how the evening went. In bed, I kept thinking back to kissing Edward again, to feeling his touch, to tasting his mouth. It was with pure bliss that I succumbed to sleep.

#

I couldn't believe how much I debated on what I would wear to my cooking class with Edward, but I stood in front of my closet, paging through hangers and rifling through drawers for what ended up being fifteen minutes before I decided on a faded pair of Levi's and a red T-shirt over a long sleeve white shirt. Plain and boring, but very me; that's what I wanted to be for Edward. Me.

He invited me into his house, and I noticed it was all back in order and clean.

"When did you get to bed?" I asked as I glanced around.

"Oh, I think it was about one or so. Not too late."

"It was really nice of you to let Alice use your house on such short notice."

"I'm just glad I could help her out." He bent over to tie his boots, and I couldn't help but stare at his ass. The jeans he wore were tight in all the right places. "So, I was thinking we could walk. Would you be opposed to that?"

"Where is it?"

"Only a couple of blocks from Pike's Place Market. What do you say?"

"Sure. Let's walk."

As we headed out into the warm spring day we held hands and talked. We had over an hour to walk the two miles, so we took it at a leisurely pace, getting reacquainted as more than friends again. Walking over I-5, the familiar Capitol Hill district gave way to the city and tall buildings that arose around us. By the time we arrived in front of Diane's Kitchen Market - Urban Cooking School, our conversation was easily flowing. I loved the cobblestone of the narrow street and being in the city. People were milling around, but I wanted to kiss Edward one more time before we went in for our class.

"I really have no clue what to expect here, but kiss me quick so I can taste you on my lips while I cook." He lit up with laughter before he opened his mouth to mine and let me appreciate his flavor for a moment before he pulled away and dragged me inside.

A friendly blonde woman, who wore her hair in a ponytail and a bright smile on her face, greeted us. It appeared that we were enrolled in a fairly small class. She directed us to some stools and marked our names off her clipboard. "Why don't you boys get comfortable while everyone else arrives. We'll get started soon."

As soon as all the other students arrived, we spent a few minutes on introductions. Edward introduced me as his boyfriend. Diane stepped behind the counter across from us in the kitchen and started talking about the basics of cooking: knife skills, the importance of using fresh, local ingredients, and some of the basic science behind certain cooking techniques. It was very interesting, but I couldn't keep my hands completely to myself. I slipped an arm around Edward's back and tucked my fingers into his back pocket. He wasn't Mr. Innocent himself, sneaking kisses every so often.

About fifteen minutes into the class, we made a trip to The Market. Edward and I held hands, or he pulled me to his chest when he stood behind me, listening to Diane speak about various products. The rest of the students were women, and I'd occasionally see one or two peeking at us while we kissed. They each gave us appreciative smiles if they were caught.

Back at the cooking school, we all put on aprons and started getting our dishes put together. Diane opened several bottles of wine, and I was suddenly very thankful we had walked. After my second glass, I was feeling very relaxed and started to lose a bit of the reserve that I'd been holding onto. When Edward bent down to retrieve something from a drawer, I shamelessly grabbed his ass when no one was looking. His eyes were huge when he turned to look at me. I couldn't help myself. Those jeans were too damn tight. If anyone asked me, I'd blame the jeans. It was their fault.

When I poured my third glass of wine, he stopped me with a whisper. "Jasper, when was the last time you ate?"

I shrugged my shoulders and pursed my lips, looking up as if the answer was written on the ceiling. "Toast. Eight."

"Slow down, love. You're wasted," he said into my ear, but all that did was send me into a fit of laughter because his breath tickled. I saw him shake his head and mouth apologies to Diane who just smiled at him and handed me a piece of bread.

"Sorry." I hadn't realized how drunk I was. It had been ages since I'd really drank alcohol. I guess I was a cheap drunk. I must have said "cheap drunk" out loud because everyone in the kitchen laughed. Then I apologized to everyone in the store. Thankfully, they seemed to find me amusing and not as irritating as I suddenly feared I'd been.

"Don't worry, Jasper," Diane said. "You aren't the first, nor will you be the last, cooking student to get drunk. Edward, I hope you're paying attention. For Jasper's sake," she teased.

I did my best to refocus as I attempted to soak up the excess wine with the bread I chewed. The class was very interesting, and I was learning a lot, and when we sat down a few hours later to eat what we had cooked, I couldn't believe our creation. Edward had always been the chef, and he had taught me many things, but it was nice to be learning these new dishes and techniques together. After we were done eating and I'd had a few glasses of water, my buzz was basically gone. We said good-bye to everyone in the class and headed back through Pike's Place on our way home.

"That was fun," I told Edward. "What did you think? I didn't embarrass you, did I?"

"No. I just didn't know how drunk you were getting. If I'd known you had so little to eat, I'd have suggested brunch. Next week, okay?"

"Sure, baby, now come here and kiss me again."

Once we got to Edward's house, he unlocked the door and invited me in. I kicked my shoes off and slipped them in my spot by the door and headed to the living room to sit on the couch. He joined me with two glasses of ice water. We each took a sip, and as soon as I set mine on the stone coaster, he pushed me against the arm of the sofa and attacked my mouth.

His kisses were hot, filling me up and searing me. When he left my mouth, he kissed down my neck and started to bite along my muscle on his way to my shoulder. Pleasure traveled in spider webs down my body, and I begged for more. But he brought his mouth back to my own, kissing me with more dominance than I had ever felt from him before. I loved that he was taking control. On top of that, the sheer weight of his body pressing into mine was nearly enough to make me lose it. I grabbed his luscious ass in those naughty jeans and pulled his hips toward me.

Slipping his elbows below my knees, he pushed my legs up and thrust his hard cock between my ass cheeks. I could feel him right where I wanted him. All we had to do was get rid of four pieces of fabric, and he'd be making love to me. He thrust again and again, and I had to pull away from his kiss so I could breathe and moan in pleasure.

"Fuck, yes. Oh, fuck me, Edward." My voice was strained and breathy, but I was overjoyed to finally feel free enough to let him know what I really wanted.

"Jasper, do you know what you're doing to me right now?"

My calendar alert went off on my phone, and Edward started to pull off of me. I dug my heels into his ass and pushed his hips back into me.

"Jasper, your phone." I shook my head, and Edward picked up his thrusting again, grinding into my ass again and again. My cock got the added stimulation as he pressed the thick denim of my pants against it.

The phone rang then, Zoë's ringtone, and that's when I remembered the appointment.

"Shit, I have to go. I have to pick Zoë up. What time is it?" I asked as he moved off of me.

"It's ten to four."

"I've got to go, Edward. Fuck!" I was pissed, but I knew we'd better stop.

"Go, Jasper. I'll be here," he reassured as he caught his breath. "Call me later?"

"Sure, baby. I'll be at Rosalie's about eight or so. I'll call when I get there, okay?" He nodded and walked with me to the door, kissing me several more times before I finally had to pull away to answer Zoë's second call. I waved and answered the phone on my way to my truck. As I drove away, I reassured Zoë I'd be at her house in minutes and smiled as I saw Edward still standing on the front porch.

When I pulled up, Zoë didn't look happy at all. I braced myself for her wrath but saw it quickly disappear when she hopped into my truck.

"Ah. You've been with Edward. Okay, I forgive you then. But I pulled in some special favors to get in with Xander so quickly, and he told me today could be a while. Okay. I'm done. Let's go."

"Sorry. We'll be on time," I said as I pulled up in front of the store. "See. Now, come on. I'll hold your hand."

#

When I got to Rosalie's house that evening, I greeted her and Emmett then grabbed a quick bite to eat. Rose was no longer freaking out over my weight since I was nearly back at my normal weight, and she let me eat pretty much whatever. I decided on finishing my late supper with some ice cream.

I made what I thought was going to be a quick phone call to Edward, but it ended up being over an hour long conversation. He apologized, once again, for missing so many signs he felt he should have caught months ago. That made me apologize for all the secrets I'd kept from him. We started going in circuitous-apology-mode, so I stopped it and suggested we just take what we'd learned and apply it to the future.

"You're right Jasper. I think what we both need to do is forgive ourselves."

I agreed, and we both went silent, listening to the soft breathing on the other end of the line.

"Did you and Zoë have a good time?"

"I guess you could say that. My fingers are a bit sore from all the squeezing she was doing. She got another tattoo. What did you do this evening?" I asked, changing the subject.

"My parents invited Alice, Bella, and me to dinner. Mom heard about the plumbing issues the girls had at their house and figured they needed a bit of pampering. We swam for a while, too. Alice couldn't keep her mouth shut, so Mom and Dad know about last night in the garden. Needless to say, they were happy but Mom wanted to make sure we were taking it slow."

"Slow. Yep. This afternoon was really slow, just like last night was. If it weren't for the cock blocking, I can only imagine where we'd be right now," I admitted with a smile.

"Actually, I think we should take it slow. How about you?"

"Yeah, I do. Tell my dick that though," I joked, and I was happy to hear him laugh.

"Well, we've got cooking classes and our show to prepare. When am I going to see you again?"

"Tomorrow isn't going to be very good. Elizabeth wants me at Masen Design for a presentation in the morning, and I have to see Dr. Victor in the afternoon. I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I actually miss my modeling days. But only because I had more free time." I yawned and finally admitted to crashing hard.

"Go to sleep. Will you come work at my house this week?"

"Sure. Tuesday then. Love you."

"I love you too, Jasper. Sweet dreams."

#

As we moved through the next few weeks, cool weather grew colder as storm clouds covered the city forcing us back into sweaters and raincoats. I got more freelance work from Elizabeth and glowing reviews every time I brought my work back to the office. B&O took up my weekday evenings. Zoë started dating a mystery man and became scarcer, so most of our time together was now spent at the coffeehouse. She seemed very happy. I had little extra time to spare. Nonetheless, I was looking forward to graduation and getting a job that didn't require evening hours even though I'd miss our time together.

Edward and I worked in his studio, taking frequent kissing breaks or getting lost in conversations that would go on for hours. We never took our physical relationship further, content to work on fixing things, and I think we did. Both of us owned up to mistakes we made and before long, we were admitting things that we wished the other would or wouldn't have done. I felt closer to him than I ever had before. The openness we were experiencing made me feel so secure, and I was able to share things about my upbringing I hadn't even been willing to admit to Dr. Victor yet. Edward had known things weren't great, but he didn't realize how horrible my father had been to me. It had only been blatant outbursts a few times, but the subtle messages had been slipped into everyday life and had really set in my soul like concrete. As we talked about them, I felt like I was chipping away the pieces I no longer wanted as part of my story. I didn't know if I would ever reconcile with my father, but Edward told me he'd be there with me if I ever decided to.

One day, I arrived at Edward's and noticed all the paintings and sketches he had pulled down were now hanging back on the walls. I didn't say anything about it but just quietly admired the pieces. His house felt less empty and sterile. Most of my art supplies were now gracing my desk in his studio as well. The only things I refused to bring were my old sketchbooks.

Slowly but surely, we were mending each other's hearts. He told me about his life while we were apart and even when we were still together but I wasn't available to him. As hard as it was, I finally shared the frightening feelings I had when I felt death would be better than going on. Dr. Victor was talked about and how he had helped me. The hardest part of that conversation was that Edward should have been the one I'd gone to, not Meg on the suicide hotline. If only. I had a lot of "if onlies" and soon Edward banned the phrase all together.

His strength amazed me. I didn't know how he could forgive me. Sure, he'd admitted to a lot of anger. Hell, he crashed his car because of it. I listened to every story he told me about his rage, and since the "if onlies" were banned by that time, I simply listened. We would cry together, holding onto each other to soothe our own pain, but more importantly, to alleviate one another's. I didn't know I could love Edward more, but it was as if my love grew exponentially and it didn't seem to be stopping.

I dreaded leaving in the afternoons to go to my job. The money was necessary for my physical needs, but my soul needed Edward.

We continued to cook together most days, and our cooking classes were coming in handy. I started taking on more of the food responsibilities on the days we were at his house, and Edward worked as my sous chef. When five thirty came around and we were standing in the kitchen doing dishes, I would always start to feel the melancholy set in. I knew he could sense it, and he'd wrap his arms around my waist and kiss my neck, trying to ease me. I'd pull it together and work my shift, but rather than getting in my truck and driving the few blocks to his house, I always got on I-5 and drove many miles to my sister's.

I think Edward could sense how weary I was getting before I could, and one dreary afternoon as we sat under the rain falling down on the overhead windows in the studio, he grabbed my hand and looked at me with very serious eyes. Putting down my pencil and closing my sketchbook, I turned to give him my full attention.

"Jasper, I was wondering if you'd consider moving back home with me?"

"I'm not sure we're ready to be sleeping in the same bed yet, Edward," I admitted. "To move from kissing to sharing a room seems quick."

His eyebrows jumped a few times and he said, "We can easily change that, love," and his face broke into a beautiful, wide smile. "I'm kidding … sort of."

"All joking aside, yes, Edward. Yes! I'd love to move in, but I think it would be best if I sleep in my old room, don't you?"

After discussing it and trying to make sure we were both really ready for this, I decided to take him up on his offer. Edward and Emmett helped me pack and move my things back home.

Home.

As they assisted unloading my truck and started putting boxes in my room, I couldn't help standing in the living room, taking it all in. I felt filled up even though I didn't know I'd been feeling empty. This was where I belonged. It was the only place I'd ever felt at home, and it wasn't because of the house. It was because of him.

Edward came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, teasing me with his warm breath washing across my neck. "I'm so happy you're home, Jasper. The house has felt so empty and naked without you. You aren't even unpacked, and it already feels whole." He placed warm kisses on the sensitive skin of my neck as Emmett passed us with a box in hand. "I feel whole. Thank you for moving back home."

I turned my head and fingered his silky hair as my lips met his. "Thank you for inviting me back, Edward."

Emmett had to break up the moment by calling us lazy bums, so we got back to work. Edward spent the rest of the day helping me unpack. When I brought my sketchbooks back to the studio and we hung my artwork back on the nails, we both commented on how good it felt to have things back to the way they should be. He pulled the metal Whitlock Cullen doormat out of the garage and asked me to put it where it belonged. My key was also given back to me. It seemed as if nothing had changed, but so much had. We were both different men, and our relationship was transformed.

In the kitchen right next to the grocery list sat something new. It was the leather journal we'd both drawn in. We both decided we wanted to use it to keep in better contact when we had things on our minds and felt this was something we wanted to continue. I'd recently drawn a picture of us working in the kitchen together. I entitled it "Home" but hadn't given it to him until the day I moved in. When I opened to the drawing, Edward couldn't keep the smile off his face or the tears out of his eyes.

Something else new happened with us this time around. Edward and I sat down and talked about money in a very frank and open manner, unlike we'd ever done before. Not only did I show him my various debts, but I also revealed how much money I was making and how I had planned to pay things off. Unexpectedly, Edward did the same thing. He wanted me to know everything, and I was surprised to find out that his past insistence that he could've helped me was not an exaggeration.

When we got to my medical bills, Edward asked if I'd considered a civil suit against Jessica and Mike. I hadn't, but as he talked to me about it, I realized it was a real possibility. A few days later, Edward and I were meeting with a lawyer, and I made the decision to go ahead and sue them. My lawyer decided to throw everything but the kitchen sink at them.

When we came home from the law office, I decided to head out to the backyard to walk among the new wildflowers that were just starting to bloom in the labyrinth. I was feeling guilty about suing them as if I would be shirking my financial responsibilities if I went that route. Edward joined me within moments and asked me to tell him what was bothering me. I guess it was that obvious. When I told him, he looked me in the eye and got very serious.

"You have thousands upon thousands of dollars of medical bills because Mike and Jessica willfully planned to expose you and humiliate you in front of our friends. I'm not sure she intended to physically hurt you, but she did. If that entire situation had never been set up, her anger wouldn't have gotten out of control like that. Jasper, you nearly died that night. You should have seen how pale you got. All the blood." He stopped and shook his head as his brows pulled together in a severe frown. I could tell he was reliving it all over again, so I wrapped my arms around him.

"But I didn't die, baby. I'm right here with you in our own backyard."

"Thank God. I'm so glad you're here, but even though they didn't take your life, they took your livelihood from you."

"You're right." I nodded, finally acknowledging that they had taken more than my pride away. "No one will hire me as a model. I could have done that for several more years, if not a decade, and I could have made some decent money. Okay, no guilt. I'm not going to worry about it. It'll be up to the court to decide, and I'll be happy with anything I get. Honestly, I just want to be able to pay the hospital bills, so I don't have that hanging over my head," I declared.

Just then, a loud crack of thunder made us both jump and a sudden downpour was soaking us. Spring storms. We made our way out of the labyrinth as quickly as we could and got into the house but not before we were drenched. In the back entryway, I pulled my shirt over my head. When Edward emerged from his thin sweater, his eyes were drawn down to my left wrist.

"What's that?" he asked.

* * *

**Edit: 3/6/2012**


	32. Love

**Love**

"That's my tattoo."

"Tattoo?" Edward asked as he reached for my left hand and pulled it toward him. He studied the three-inch thick band of black ink that encircled my arm above wrist bone. The same designs that were pressed into my leather cuff were left natural. "When? Why?" He looked at me and there was wetness below his eyes, but I didn't know if it was from tears or the chilly raindrops.

"Right after my birthday. I just couldn't be without you," I paused, looking down at my arm and tried to put into words my reasoning. Would he understand? Would he be angry? I knew I had to be honest and let him know, so I continued. "But I knew I couldn't have you. I'd keep touching my wrist, trying to … I don't know … comfort myself, think of you, remind myself that I had to give you space. All of it," I sighed before looking at his face, so open and understanding. "That cuff meant more than I ever thought it did. It was the combination of us like we should have been: together, blended, mixed." I stopped my explanation and searched his face. He looked confused. "I wanted to have you with me, and since I couldn't have the real you, I decided to infuse you into me. This way you'll always be here," I said as I wrapped my fingers around my ink. "Just like you'll always be in my heart, Edward.

"Wow." He stopped there and looked between my tattoo and my eyes for several minutes as if he was trying to form more questions. "How?"

"I just decided to do it and found a way to make it happen. I traded. The tattoo artist wanted some help designing several new fonts for his catalog, and he didn't have the time, so I helped. Zoë knows him. He's done her pieces."

"God, Jasper. I'm so sorry I ever took the cuff away from you. I thought I was doing us both a favor, but I was making it so much worse." He reached for my arm again and traced his fingers over the naked part of the design. "I really like it." He paused and small smile crept over his mouth as he peeked up at me. "A lot! But how have you kept it covered all this time?"

I chuckled and took his wet sweater from him, laying it flat on the washing machine. "I haven't been hiding it if that's what you're asking. It's just been cold and rainy so I've worn a lot of long sleeve shirts and sweaters. Nothing sinister or secretive here. Long before it was healed, it was already a part of me … like you." I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "God, when did I become such a sap?"

"I don't know, but keep being a sap." He slipped his wet shoes off, and I followed suit while he took the few steps to the dryer and pulled out two towels. We stripped to our underwear and dried off. Well, he dried off, and I watched him in his white square cut briefs with navy blue trim. He caught me and smirked knowing exactly what must have been on my mind, but he ignored it.

"Can I ask you a question?" he wondered.

"Anything."

"Do you want your cuff back? I'll go get it."

"What I want is for you to give it to me when you're ready. When you give it to me, I'll know you're ready to fully trust me again. You're in charge of that. I know I have a lot to make up for, and it's going to take time. I'm prepared to wait. And as much as I like my ink, there's nothing like having that leather wrapped around my wrist." I pulled him into my arms, attempting to ignore his sexy form and whispered, "Whenever you're ready, babe."

That's when I noticed how hard he was pressed against my hip. No, no, no. This can't happen. Not yet. I repeated my mantra as I pulled away from Edward's fit body, but his mouth had other ideas as his lips fit perfectly with mine. Kissing while fully clothed was one thing. We'd been doing that for two weeks. I could do that. I couldn't do this. It was proven as my left hand trailed down his back and didn't stop until I felt damp cotton beneath my fingertips. My right hand slid beneath his waistband and moved steadily down his crack about to make contact with his tight hole.

Wrenching my body away from his, I wrapped the towel around me and headed for the main bathroom, my bathroom, and I shut and locked the door.

"Jasper, come out," he called from the other side of the door.

"I don't think that would be a very good idea, Edward."

"On the contrary, I think it would be a spectacular idea," he intoned.

"Edward, no. I just can't."

"Yes. Yes, you can," he insisted, and I cracked the door to reveal him leaning against the frame with a flirty smirk on his face. I stood looking at him, wondering if what we wanted to do was wise or foolish. Throwing the door open, he devoured me with his hungry eyes. "I think we've waited long enough, don't you?"

I looked down at the threshold and toed the transition strip between the tile and the hardwood floors.

"Talk to me, Jasper," he pleaded as he dropped all his teasing. He reached for my hand, and I gripped onto his fingers for dear life. "You said no more secrets. Now, come on; let's talk about this. What are you afraid of?"

I sighed and scowled in concentration before looking at him. "I'm scared of hurting you again, and not just emotionally. Are we making a mistake here?"

"Has it felt like a mistake these last weeks when you were kissing me?"

"No. That felt natural, like how it should be," I admitted and then looked back to the floor, trying to hide as I shared my fears. "But I don't want to lose control, Edward. I'm not sure I trust myself yet."

"I can see why you're afraid. I think I'd feel the same in your situation. So, let's talk about it. There's no reason to avoid it any more. Look at me, Jasper," he implored, and I did. "Do you want to bottom?"

I tried to read his expression before I answered, but I knew I shouldn't answer his question based on his feelings. I had to answer this for me and me alone.

"Yes," I emphatically said. "Not only do I want to experience that with you and in a loving relationship, but I also won't be able to hurt you like I did before."

"I told you long before we dated that I rarely bottomed, but with you, it was amazing and not something I really wanted to give up. Even the night that you think you physically harmed me, you didn't. Sure, it wasn't pleasurable toward the end, but you didn't hurt me, Jasper. You need to know that," he said with all seriousness. "But are you saying you never want to top again?"

"I don't know."

"Well, you don't have to decide today. Just know I loved when you fucked me, and when you're ready, I'll be more than willing. But for now, I'll top. Does that ease your mind?" he asked with a smile.

"Yes, it does, but I'm still nervous."

"But kissing feels natural?" he questioned.

"Yes."

"Then I think it's time to go beyond kissing, Jasper. Waiting isn't going to make it any easier. Relax, love. This is supposed to be fun and enjoyable, not scary. We need to touch each other right now, don't you think?" he asked sincerely.

"But…" I was suddenly gripped with fear and my body shuddered. When he clasped my shoulder, I felt how warm he was, and my body trembled again.

"My God, Jasper, you're freezing. Your lips, look," he said pointing to the mirror where I saw how my normally pink lips had started to turn purple. That's when I realized how cold I truly was. The storm hadn't seemed icy, so it took me by surprise. He turned the shower on, closed the door, and turned back to me. "We need to get you in the shower now so you don't get sick," Edward insisted with worry in his voice.

"What? Do you think viruses and bacteria were raining down out there?" I joked.

"Don't you remember what my dad said after your operation?" he asked incredulously, and I shook my head. "Your body temperature isn't supposed to get down too far, or you can easily catch a bug. Without your spleen, you can't fight it as well. Now, in the shower," he demanded, pointing the way.

"Okay, okay. Relax. I'm getting in," I placated as I turned my back to him and slipped off my underwear. A quick intake of Edward's breath could be heard in the small bathroom as I stepped over the bathtub ledge and set foot in the utilitarian shower. The water felt hot, too hot, and I must have vocalized because Edward's hand appeared and adjusted the temperature.

"Is that better?"

I tentatively approached again and found the water much more bearable. "Yes. I don't think it'll take long," I said through another violent tremor of my body. "Geez. How did I get so damn cold?" Turning and twisting, I tried to warm all of my skin when I noticed Edward peering between the shower curtain and the wall. "Trying to get a free show?" I teased and winked at him over my shoulder.

"That's it. I'm coming in," he said in mock affront, and I stopped moving. Quicker than I would have expected, Edward stood behind me before I even had time to protest his joining me.

"It was hard enough to resist you in only underwear. How the hell am I supposed to now?"

Stepping closer to me, I felt Edward's warm chest against my cool back as he wrapped his arms around my waist. I did not, however, feel his cock against my ass. Perhaps I could maintain my control.

"Why do you insist on resisting me? Why can't we just do what feels right?" he asked seriously. I stood, shaking my head very subtly, but he noticed. Water fell from the chrome shower head in a decadent spray that caressed my body with just the right amount of pressure, and Edward's breath washed across my shoulder as he said, "Yes, we can, Jasper. We've taken it slow and worked out many things. It's not like we're fifteen-year-olds who've never had a sexual relationship. Plus, we've already been with each other. So, in all honesty, what are we waiting for?"

"I don't know," I admitted. I thought I'd been waiting for Edward to be ready, postponing sexual advances until he gave me some sort of subtle sign. Well, here he was, waving a flag and jumping up and down.

Trailing his fingers up the center of my chest, my skin reacted to his touch, nipples tightening and becoming more sensitive. Arching over my pecs and under my arms, he rounded my shoulder blades and began to knead the muscles on my neck.

"You're so tense. Relax, sweetpea."

"Sweetpea? What happened to calling me love?"

Stepping back, his hands left me for a moment and returned feeling silky and more easily glided over my skin.

"You'll always be my love. Maybe I'm just a tad jealous because Zoë has a nickname for you," he divulged.

His hands moved to my shoulders, and I saw white suds coating my skin. Deep and smooth, his soap covered hands moved, working out tension and bringing me pleasure.

"You have nothing to be jealous of, babycakes," I teased.

"Babycakes? Oh, come on!"

"See? Not so fun is it?" I chuckled. "I love it when you call me love. It fits, and it reminds me— Oh, right there," I interrupted myself as Edward hit a spot on my mid-back that was particularly tight. My sleep hadn't been great. It hadn't been for months, but my back seemed to suffer the most.

"Tell me if I push too hard. I can feel your muscles spasm. Try to relax and don't forget to breathe. Okay, you were saying it reminds you of…?"

"Oh, I guess it just reminds me of how much you love me and … other things," I finished sheepishly. It reminded me that I used to be his lover. It reminded me of the connection we once shared. It reminded me of my desire even though I tried to turn it off.

I felt my cock started to get heavier as I thought about us together but then focused on his hands touching my back. Every so often, he'd get more soap so my skin would stay slick and his hands could easily move.

"It reminds you of when we kiss?" he asked in a husky whisper, and I nodded. "And it reminds you of anxious hands trailing across overheated skin." It was no longer a question as his hands moved to my chest and plucked at my erect nipples, forcing me to sigh. "It reminds you of our mouths tasting each other. Saltiness, mm-mmm. Do you miss it, Jasper? Do you miss how I taste?"

I took in a shaky breath and said, "Mmhmm," but my voice cracked.

Directing my body under the shower spray, he rinsed the soap along my back and neck. Then I felt his satiny mouth kissing along my clean skin.

"I miss your flavor, Jasper." Once again, I heard him gathering more suds from the bar of soap. "Sometimes, I think I can still taste you in my mouth," he whispered in a deep, husky voice as his slick hand palmed my ass. "It's been so long since I've had you on the back of my tongue."

My breathing stuttered in my airway at his words and the image that came to mind. Closing my eyes, I felt my cock continue to harden, and I resisted touching myself, leaving my hands hanging loosely at my sides.

His other hand snaked around my waist, up my chest, and to my nipple again. Deft fingers expertly played with the receptive flesh, pulling, rolling, and pinching before moving across to the other. I was lost in the sensations and allowed myself to relax further, dropping my head down. My lips were relaxed and open, noisy breaths escaping as I focused on the feel of his hands on my chest and ass.

"Such simple touches. That's all this really is, Jasper. Touch. There's nothing to be afraid of." He shifted behind me, resting the center of his chest against the left side of my back.

Tender kisses were methodically placed in spots he knew drove me crazy: a scar, just behind my earlobe, down the side of my neck, another scar, the center of my neck, the join of my neck and shoulder. That's where he spent the most time, kissing, licking, nibbling, and finally biting me … hard. My nerves were on fire as pleasure spread like icy heat down my body to my nipples that he was just barely touching. I tilted my head to the side in hopes that he'd do it again.

He did.

"I fucking love that. I missed that … and a lot of other things," I finished in a very low whisper I'm not sure he heard.

"I know you do, love. Now just relax into me and let go." His warm breath spilled across my neck as his hand on my chest became firmer once again. Just when I thought I'd come from nipple play alone, he slapped me on the right cheek and then rubbed the sting away from my ass. Edward's hands remained soapy and if he lost the suds, he pulled away for a few moments to maintain the silky lather.

"I'm proud of you, Jasper," he said quietly.

"Mmm?" His words stirred my hazy mind, and I lifted my head as I spoke.

"I know how scared you've been and yet, here you are, letting me touch you while you allow yourself to enjoy it." He started touching me lower, drifting over my abs before moving back to my chest. Everything he was doing was done slowly, gently. "How long has it been?"

"How long has what been?" I tried to clarify.

"Since you've come?"

"Why? Is it that obvious?" I asked.

He chucked at my defensive tone. "No. I was just wondering how much it would take to make you spray all over these walls. That's all."

"Fuck, Edward. Do you need to talk to me like that?" I questioned as my head fell back to land on his shoulder.

In a deep, throaty whisper, he answered, "Yes. I do need to talk like that if I want to please you. And I do want to bring you pleasure, Jasper."

"Your fucking words might do it without you coming near my dick."

"Who said a thing about touching your dick?" he teased as he pinched a nipple. "That's not at all what I want to touch right now."

"Oh?" I managed to get out as I relaxed around the feel of his hands on my body.

"Here, let me get something, love." I heard the distinctive snap of the cap from a lube bottle open and close before he started kissing along that wonderful spot on my neck again. Just as he bit down, he started to slide his fingers down the sensitive skin in my crack. When he reached my entrance, I felt him circle my sensitive hole, bringing unexpected pleasure to parts of my body I never knew could feel such things … that is until he showed me.

"Fuck you're gorgeous, Jasper. Look at you, arching your back for me." He rested his left hand across my stomach, holding onto my hipbone. "There you go, love. Show me where you want me to touch you."

I thrust my hips back further, inviting him in.

He stood back and rubbed his slick hand over both buttocks while he surveyed my ass. I could hear his breathing take on a stilted quality before he returned to rest his body against mine.

"Mmm," he breathed out as he pressed a finger into my anxious body. I couldn't withhold the moan as he coaxed the tight muscle to relax and started to move inside me. With each thrust he penetrated deeper, filling the space that my body welcomed.

"You're so smooth, Jasper. Do you know how good you feel around my finger?" Adding another, he teased, "Or should I say fingers?"

I released a sigh as I rested my hands on the shower wall in front of me. Water bombarded my face so I hung my head allowing it to trail off the thick curls and avoid my eyes. Giving in to the sensation of his invading fingers, I thrust back, forcing him to plunge more powerfully. He brushed against my prostate, and a breathy moan escaped from the back of my throat.

"That's it, love," Edward said as he continued to stroke that delightful spot with each thrust and moved his other hand in long, soothing caresses from my shoulder to my ass. It was a decadent sensation to be so relaxed in one part of my body and so tightly wound in others. I had to widen my stance to maintain some semblance of control. It was now a certainty that I was going to come from getting finger fucked alone. He was right. My dick didn't require any touch at all.

As I pushed back to envelop his fingers, Edward leaned across my back and started to intermittently whisper soft words of encouragement mixed with dirty phrases. "You're so beautiful. I've missed seeing your ass. Fuck, I love you. Fuck my hand. Fuck it hard. Look how we fit. We were made for each other. Take it. Take what I give you."

I was coming completely undone and was thankful I was leaning on the shower wall and that Edward was helping support my weight. Crying out, I didn't give a flying fuck how I sounded. When he added a third finger, I let it all go and fucked myself to climax, clamping my eyes tight as my body shuddered from pleasure now, no longer from the cold.

"Perfect. Fuck that was hot, Jasper. So how long has it been since you've come?"

I was breathless and leaned against the wall panting, unable to answer right away. As I drew in greedy amounts of oxygen, strength started to return to my sated body. Turning around, I kissed Edward's full mouth, biting and nipping at his tongue and lips before he pulled away with a chuckle.

"Do I need to ask the question a third time to get an answer or are you going to tell me?" He raised a brow in challenge.

Pulling him into my upper body and resting my head on his shoulder, I finally told him, "Valentine's Day."

"What?" His voice went up about three octaves as he spoke. "What do you mean 'Valentine's Day'?"

Stepping back, I allowed him to see the honesty on my face. "I haven't come since Valentine's Day. I didn't think I deserved it. Being depressed didn't help, but," I shrugged, "that's pretty much how long it's been. Well, actually, it's been about five minutes, now." I smirked and got a smack on the ass for my cheek.

Edward shook his head in disbelief, his brows pulled down low while he watched me rinse my hair one last time. Maneuvering around him in the small shower, I made sure he warmed up under the spray before we got out and toweled off. He was obviously thinking hard about my admission, and I could tell by his expression that he was trying to pull it all together. I wanted to give him some time.

"I'm gonna go get dressed so I don't get chilled again. I'll heat up some leftovers for supper, and then we'll talk. Okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure. See you in a few," he said absently as he walked toward his bedroom.

Soon, we were both dressed and sitting at the table eating parmesan crusted chicken breasts and steamed vegetables. I decided to pull out a bottle of wine to complement the meal even if it was leftovers. For some reason, I felt we needed to celebrate what had happened in the shower. I'd moved past a very large roadblock I didn't completely realize was there, and it somehow made me feel lighter.

"To touch," I winked as I held my glass to Edward. He lightly tapped mine and gave me a small smile.

"Touch."

As I cut into my chicken breast I said, "Please tell me what's on your mind, Edward. Is it that bad that I waited until today to have an orgasm?"

He took a sip of wine and gently set down his glass. "No. Not at all, but it's even more telling than what you've shared so far, I think. It makes me realize how connected stress and sex are for you. You shut it off, it seems. That's just foreign to me, so I'm trying to wrap my brain around it and figure out what I can do in the future when you get stressed again. 'Cause God knows, you'll get stressed again, and if you pull away your physical affections, that'll be like a warning light to me. Right?" He tilted his head and looked at me questioningly.

I thought for a moment before answering. "Yeah. I think so, now that you mention it. But, I hope I can come and talk to you before that happens again. I think I've done a lot better with that, don't you?"

"Yes. You talk to me a lot more than you used to. I used to have to guess what you were thinking," he shared.

"God, I'm sorry about that Edward," I said before taking a sip of my white wine. "No time like the present," I said under my breath and set down my glass. "I have to go to Forks to check on my mother. I've been worried about her and I want to make sure she's doing well. I took Friday off so I can leave anytime that morning or afternoon. It's more a trip for my own peace of mind, and I was wondering if you'd come with me?"

Reaching for me, he ran his fingertips across the ink on my forearm before wrapping his long fingers around the outside of my hand. "I'd love to go with you, Jasper. We can stay at my parents' house if you'd like. We'd have the entire house to ourselves. What do you say?"

"Sounds like a plan to me. It'll be nice to have a weekend away from the studio before we have to really buckle down and hit it hard when we get back." I truly needed a break and a relaxing weekend trip would be perfect. With Edward coming along, it would feel more like a vacation. "Do you want to go via Tacoma or take the Edmonds Ferry?"

"Two fairies on the ferry, love. Whadda say?"

"I say that was a horrible joke, Edward, and I'm not sure I can embrace my inner fairy quite as readily as you can." I smiled before going on. "Do you want me to make the reservations, and I assume we'll be taking the Audi to save some cash, right?"

"I'll make the reservations and I think the Audi would be best. I can't wait to get her out on the highway. And speaking of my inner fairy, hell yes, I embrace it. But I've known I was gay for a lot longer than you have, so I promise not to be too hard on you," he finished with a wink.

That night after work, when I crawled in bed, it took nearly twenty minutes to find a comfortable position. Rolling over, I faced the window, putting my back to the door. I heard Edward still moving around the house, going from room to room, most likely picking things up or preparing for work on campus the next day. Every so often I'd hear him hum softly, a few lyrics slipping out here and there. As I lay on my uncomfortable bed, I smiled as I tried to determine what song he was singing. Eventually, Edward's singing ceased, but I could have sworn I could hear his breathing, so I looked back to the door and saw him standing there watching me.

"I'm not tired at all," he shared. "Or maybe I just don't want to sleep yet. What about you?"

"I'm tired, but I'm having a hard time falling asleep," I admitted as I rolled onto my back and patted the double bed next to me. "Come talk to me."

He slowly walked to my bed and sat cross-legged facing the headboard, grasping a spare pillow to his chest and leaning into it.

"Why don't you want to sleep?" I asked in hopes that I could help him be free of whatever was on his mind.

Looking down at my comforter, he shrugged his shoulders and released a big sigh. "Do you mind if I lay down?" he asked as he peeked up at me through his lashes, looking all shy and cute.

"Not at all," I smiled as I turned and opened my arms to him. Facing me, he rested his head on my shoulder and tucked his hands between our chests. "You seem a little sad to me? Or am I reading it wrong?"

"Lonely, if I can be lonely with you in the same house as me. It doesn't make sense, but I guess that's the best way to describe it." He sighed again, and I pulled him closer.

"There's no need to be lonely now. I'm here, and I'll talk to you until you fall asleep if you'd like. What do you want to talk about?" I wondered.

"I don't need words as much as I need your arms, I think."

"Do you wanna crawl under the covers with me?" I offered.

"You don't mind?"

"No. Come here. And how about some music?" I asked as I reached for the remote for my iPod and hit play.

"Don't Forget to Breathe" by Bitter:Sweet started to play as Edward slipped between the sheets wearing only a thin pair of summer weight pajama pants. I was completely nude, and the moment his skin touched mine, he moaned quietly. Rather than focusing on the excitement my body was feeling, I concentrate on what was essential to him. He just needed my touch.

"Turn around baby," I suggested, and when he did, I pulled him tightly into my chest. "Is that better?"

Edward nodded and seemed to relax. Whether it was from my touch or the soothing music, I'm not sure, but as my Sleepy Songs playlist continued on, his breaths started to even out and become shallow. My fingers trailed through the soft hair at the center of his chest and my legs reached out to pull his closer to mine. Finding his shoulders and the back of his neck with my lips, I placed slow, wet kisses across his flesh. Soon, I felt his muscles start to twitch as he fell asleep in my arms. I inhaled against his skin, breathing in the mint from his hair and the wonderful smell that was simply Edward's skin. Falling shut, my heavy eyelids no longer allowed me to fight sleep.

We slept together the entire night for the first time in months. When I awoke in the morning, Edward was wrapped around me, resting his outstretched hand in my palm. The morning sun was peeking through the wooden blinds on my window and falling in long lines across the bed. Since he was still sleeping, I watched as the lines moved across the bed, paying attention to how they seemingly curved around our bodies. Soft breaths fanned across the center of my back as I waited for him to stir. He'd always slept in later than I did but it didn't matter. I was content to hold his hand and feel the silky skin of his chest pressed into my back.

I had done it—spent the night with Edward and not hurt him or turned into a sex-craved maniac. A small smile crept across my face at the thought. _Why had I thought I couldn't control myself all those months ago? How could I have denied both of us the feeling of skin on skin as we recovered from our days?_ If onlies. That's what Edward would tell me if he heard my thoughts, and he'd banned them. The past didn't matter. What mattered was the present and the future, and I needed to figure out how much I was willing to give.

_Was I ready to go further and allow us to communicate with our bodies again? Had we spoken all the words we needed to? Was there anything we were missing?_

My head kept going though questions, dredging up the past, and I tried to shake the thoughts away. But I wanted it to be different this time. I wanted to do this right. Had we worked through enough of our problems to move on? He tried to show me in the shower that touch and sexual release were nothing to be fearful of and in the end they weren't. Yet, I still didn't completely trust myself.

When he finally stirred nearly thirty minutes later, I was anxious to get up and switch gears. After a quick good morning kiss, my mind started going in a very different direction. So much had to be done in the coming days before we left for Forks. While I took a rather long shower, Edward must have taken a quick one, because when I opened the door of the steamy bathroom, the smell of sausage hit my nose. As I walked past the dining room to get to my bedroom, I saw he had set a pile of plates, napkins, and flatware on the table in haste. I quickly dressed and then began setting the table for breakfast. When Edward came to the dining room with a large platter filled with eggs, sausage, toast, and fried potatoes, he was surprised to see the table already set. We took our time eating and sipping our coffee before we drove to the campus studio together in his car.

While Edward was driving toward UW, my phone rang. It was Elizabeth Masen, wondering if I had time to spare. "Do you think you could come to the office about one o'clock?" she asked and I looked over at Edward.

"Hang on a second, Elizabeth. I didn't drive to the campus today and I have to see if that would work." Putting my phone on mute, I told Edward about her request. "Maybe I should meet her tomorrow. Or I could take the bus." I wondered aloud.

"Jasper, I'll take you there. You could take my car too, but we'll need to eat, so why don't I just drive you? That way I can see where you work, too." I nodded as I pressed the mute button again.

"Elizabeth, I'll be there. Looking forward to seeing you again," I said before hanging up and then looking down at my clothes. I was wearing a pair of paint-splattered jeans that had holes in the knees and frayed hems. At least my shirt was hole free, though it was full of dyes and paints and who knows what else wouldn't come out in the wash. I had dressed for a day of messy work, not a meeting with my potential boss.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Edward asked with concern.

"Ah, nothing. Well, actually, I just don't usually dress like this when I see her, and I hope it won't affect her impression of me."

"Jasper, I think by now she knows that you're professional and can clean up real purdy-like," he said with a ridiculously, exaggerated southern accent and a wink. "Seriously though, she knows you're a student working on your senior show. I think she'll understand, especially after you told her you were working on campus."

"Yeah, you're right."

The morning flew by and before I knew it, Edward and I were heading toward downtown Seattle to Masen Design. Since our breakfast was fairly late, neither of us was hungry, so we decided to postpone lunch until after my meeting.

"So, I'll just head across the street to the coffeehouse and wait for you, okay?" Edward said as we walked hand in hand near the entrance of the building. He squeezed my hand but then quickly let go and took a step away from me when my name was called.

"Jasper," I heard from behind me and turned to see Elizabeth running in her three-inch heels. "Oh, thank goodness. I thought I was running late. The server took forever with the check. I'm glad I didn't make you wait because I know you have a lot going on right now." Just then she noticed the bronze-haired man next to me and her eyes lit up. "Oh! And who's this, may I ask?"

"Elizabeth, this is Edward Cullen. Edward, Elizabeth Masen," I introduced, and they reached for each other and shook hands, exchanging pleasantries.

"Say, are you related to Esme Cullen, by any chance?" she asked.

"I certainly am. She's my mother," he shared with a proud smile. It was fascinating watching Edward interact so easily with my boss and one of the most influential women in the graphic arts community in Seattle. I'd been so nervous when I first met her. Of course, I must not have come off that way, but Edward was so relaxed you'd think they were long lost friends. "Well, I'm glad I was able to meet you. Jasper's told me a lot about you, and I know he truly enjoys working with you and your company. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go wait at the coffeehouse for you to finish your meeting."

Edward looked at me and smiled before he stepped away, but I stopped him by grasping his long fingers and gave him a chaste kiss on the mouth before I turned to walk in the building with Elizabeth.

"So, how long have you two been together?" she asked once we were alone in the elevator.

"We've been best friends since we were fifteen, and we started dating in September." I decided to leave out the sordid details and keep it simple.

"I know his mother from various art boards. She's a force to be reckoned with and very influential. I assume you know her well."

"I do. Esme's like a mother to me. During high school, I spent nearly all my time at the Cullens'. Edward was my first friend in Forks. We hit it off because we were both the reclusive artists that small town kids usually don't understand. We were lucky to be such good friends." I couldn't help but smile at the memory of Edward and me sitting against the science building on one of the rare sunny days in Forks. While everyone else seemed to be frolicking in the grass, throwing balls and catching Frisbees, we took advantage of the natural lighting that threw beautiful lines of contrasting shade across everything and sketched.

"So, what is he studying or is he done with school already?" she asked as we stepped off the elevator and made our way toward her office.

"He's a senior too and an artist. In fact, he had an internship at the _Times_. His first love is cartooning, and he thought he wanted to do editorial cartooning but has since decided it isn't for him."

"Next time you come, bring him," she said as she paged through a small stack of messages her assistant handed to her as we passed his desk and then entered her office. "I'm sure he'd like the grand tour and to see the place where his boyfriend is going to be working," she said with a raised brow.

"Pardon me?" I asked in shock.

"The board approved, and we'd like you to start working as soon as you graduate."

"What? Really? I mean, thank you. This isn't at all what I expected today. I thought you were going to talk to me about another project," I confessed.

"Please, sit down," she gestured toward the chair across from her desk as she sat beside me in a matching leather chair. I noticed a folder she promptly opened and encouraged me to study. "Now, I have a few things I need to discuss with you, and I want you to have the time to look over the contract. As you see about two thirds of the way down the page, this is what we are willing to offer you as a salary."

I was shocked at the number not expecting my starting position to pay that well. As I quickly scanned the contract, she pointed things out to me such as paid time off and the like.

"Do you mind if I take this home and spend some time going over it?"

"No problem, Jasper. I wasn't expecting an answer today, but I wanted you to know you have a position here if you'd like. Time and time again you've proven yourself and your skills. I think you'd make a great addition to our design team. So, give it some time, and let me know by June first."

"Thank you, Elizabeth," I said as she stood and moved to the other side of her desk. "I really appreciate you going out on a limb for me. That means a lot." I stood and shook her hand before saying my good-byes and catching the elevator down with a few designers I knew from my internship. I said my hellos and made my way across the street to find Edward sitting outside at a small cafe table.

"They offered me a job and here's the contract," I said as I handed him the paperwork. "I didn't say yes yet because I wanted to look this over more carefully, but I have a job offer, Edward."

"My God, Jasper," he exclaimed as he stood and wrapped his arms around my shoulder. "That's great, but I always knew you'd get hired there. They never would've continued to call you back for various projects if they didn't like what you did. Congratulations, man!" He slapped me on the back as he clasped me, making me chuckle at the "man hug" he just gave me.

"Come here and kiss me, baby. I want to feel like your boyfriend right now, not your pal." Our lips met over and over in the most passionate kiss we allowed ourselves on a heavily populated street. We left to eat lunch and continue with our routine for the rest of the day.

The rest of the week was spent finishing our final pieces and meeting with Dr. Banner to make sure we accomplished everything we had outlined at the beginning of the semester. In the end, there was one thing he wanted us to do. Initially when we conceived of our Confessions show, we were going to have two very large sculptured letters, an E and a J, greet our guests. Dr. Banner wanted us to do something more, and as we sat in his office discussing our possibilities, Edward told him about an idea he had. After a time, I agreed, and we decided that a very large silk screen would be the best medium to accomplish what we wanted.

We knew after we returned from our trip to Forks we'd have to work on setting up the gallery where we were having our showing. We'd have many things to do besides hanging paintings, so together the three of us made a list of everything we needed to accomplish in the coming week for the show to go on. Edward had already designed invitations and posters in an eye catching Pop Art style reminiscent of Warhol and Lichtenstein, but he made it completely Cullen. On Thursday afternoon, we mailed invitations to the people on our list and started hanging posters in various shops in town and around campus.

By the time I left for work that evening, I was packed and ready to leave for our three-day weekend. Zoë was in an unusually funny mood that night and it was a great way to finish off the workweek, laughing and joking most of the night. She finally revealed who her mystery man was. I wasn't surprised that she had fallen for Xander, our tattoo artist. Not only was he creative and eclectic, like her, but he was also very caring. During the hours he spent on my tattoo, I'd noticed how genuine he was, so I was relieved when she shared who she was seeing.

When I got home, Edward was just carrying his suitcase out the door and putting it in the trunk of the Audi, next to my own.

"Hey. How was work?" he asked as he gingerly shut the trunk.

"Good, but it's even better to be here with you," I purred as I drew him into my embrace and buried my nose behind his ear to breathe him in deeply. "I'm so glad we're getting away."

"Mmm. Me too. I talked to Dad, and he asked that I take care of a few things this weekend: mowing and maintaining the pool. Let's get some sleep, so we can get up early and not miss the ferry."

I nuzzled into the back of his neck further and shook my head. "I don't want to move. Let's just stand here a little longer, okay?"

I could feel him laughing against my arms before I could hear it. "You know, we can go in the house and snuggle too, right?"

"Mmm-kay," I said as I reluctantly let him go and watched his ass move in his form-fitting jeans as he walked ahead of me.

After the night Edward slept in my bed, we started spending more time just touching each other in more sexual ways. Little by little, I found I had less apprehension, more easily reaching for him and not second guessing myself or holding back my affections as I had before. It felt good to show him my love again.

Like we had for several nights, we collapsed onto the couch, curling up together to watch television. I rarely paid attention to what was on, focusing much more on his hands and mouth that were in contact with my skin. I must have been tired because soon Edward was shaking me awake and urging me to go to bed. Once I gave him one last kiss goodnight, I pulled his T-shirt over his head and headed to bed. He scoffed, wondering what I was doing, but when I threw my shirt to him, he immediately pulled it to his face and smelled it. Then he knew.

In the morning, we sipped our coffee as Edward drove north on I-5. It only took us about thirty-five minutes to get to Edmonds and driving onto the ferry went easily. Edward had used the ferry more than I ever had since I generally opted to find an alternative route to save some money.

As we floated across Puget Sound, we leaned against the green metal railing and watched the mountains in the background. Edward put his arm around my back and placed his hand on top of mine as it rested on the rail.

"Thanks for asking me to come with you, Jasper. You know, in college when I'd take the ferry alone, I'd stand here and dream of a day I'd be able to stand like this with you in my arms." He smiled and turned his body to me as I faced him. "Never in a million years did I think it would happen. And yet," he paused as he traced my cheekbone with his finger tips and then rounded the shell of my ear, "here we are. This is the best ferry ride I've had."

I chuckled and couldn't keep my arms from wrapping around him and holding him tight. My voice became choked up, and as I tried to speak, it only came out as a strangled whisper. "I didn't think I'd ever hold you in my arms again because of my … betrayal." I stopped myself, resting my forehead on his and said, "No if onlies, I know, but I love you so fucking much."

My mouth devoured his and I breathed deeply as if I could pull more of him in if I did. Speaking into his ear, I revealed, "I love you, baby, and as corny as I'm about to sound, I want you to know that you are honestly like my gravity. You give me the security of earth beneath my feet, but you let me soar, too. No matter what, I want to come back to you every single day."

Taking a step back, Edward looked at me with a tilted head and a tear trailing down from the outer corner of his eye. A small smile slipped to his lips and lit up his eyes. He was genuinely happy. "I want that too, Jasper. Every single day. Now, hold me, and let's see if we can spot some sea life out there," he said as he turned back to the water, and I leaned against him with my nose buried in his hair. My eyes closed in the contentment of the moment, not caring if there were seals or otters or even orca swimming in the blue water. Nothing could compare to the man in my arms.

#

It was a little after noon when we pulled into the sleepy, rainy town of Forks. My mother worked until five, and we had some time to kill, so we stopped at the Forks Coffee Shop to get a little lunch. As we sat in the aqua-colored vinyl booths, I looked around at the taxidermic animals and wondered how Edward and I could've come out of a town so different from us. We each ordered a burger and ate, all the while taking in the locals and the rustic feel that was so much different than the city and our modern home.

"What are you thinking, Jasper? You've been so quiet since we sat down."

"It's just strange being back here, you know? It seems so much smaller and somehow … less than I remember it to be." I said sadly.

"How long has it been since you've really been back and gone somewhere besides your house?" he asked with a curious look on his face.

"I think since we left for college. Forks hasn't been home for a very long time," I realized aloud. "Is there anything special you want to do … anywhere you want to go?"

"Not really," he said as he wrinkled up one side of his face. "Maybe hiking in the woods behind my house, but beyond that, what else is there besides walking around some of the shops? Then again, that might be kind of fun. I know we're going to see your mom, but … do you have any desire to see your father? Do you even know where he lives?" he hesitantly questioned.

"Nah. I don't think so. I still have a lot of anger with him, and while Dr. Victor and I have talked a lot about it, I'm not ready to do that today. Someday soon, but … no," I finished with a shake of my head. Of course, that was the moment my dad chose to walk into the restaurant. I saw him over Edward's shoulder as our waitress came and picked up the bill and Edward's debit card. "Shit," I groaned, which forced Edward to turn and see what caused me my reaction.

My stomach tensed, but then I felt Edward's hand on mine, fingers slipping under my shirtsleeve and touching my tattoo to comfort me. Our waitress greeted my dad and began leading him toward a table behind me. My eyes flitted from my dad to Edward as if looking into green eyes would somehow give me the strength to look back into the brown of my father's. Walking right past us, I thought he'd missed us, but then I felt him stop just beyond my shoulder.

I grasped onto Edward's hand with my free hand and squeezed hard, trying to pour my anxiety into his skin. He smiled at me and gave a reassuring nod.

"Jasper?" my father asked, and I turned my head as he shifted and walked back to our table.

"Hello, Dad."

"Hi."

Silence.

His eyes bounced from mine to Edward's and to our joined hands before going to the servers and other patrons. It was obvious that our intimate gesture was bothering him, but I refused to let go.

"I suppose you're here to see your mother?" I nodded. "How's school going? Just about done, I suppose." He was so uncomfortable, but he was trying.

"Things are going really well. About ready to wrap everything up, in fact. And earlier in the week I was offered a job." Suddenly, I wondered why I told him that. _Like he needed to know that_, I thought sarcastically.

With an exaggerated head nod, he stuck his hands in his front pockets and said, "Great. Welp, I'd better get to eating if I want to keep on schedule. Good seeing you, Jasper. Edward." And he left with another nod and a tight-lipped smile.

Apparently, Edward's debit card had been returned during our interaction, so when he rose, I eagerly followed. Catching up to him, I reached for his hand and intertwined my fingers with his, garnering a brief look of concern from him. What I got from my father, I'll never know because I never turned back to see.

#

Driving down the long path to the Cullen house, nestled deep in the woods just north of town, I smiled when the large house finally came into view. It had been a few years since I'd been there as well. We quickly unpacked the car, bringing in our luggage as well as the few groceries we picked up from the store. As we moved around the house, Edward adjusted thermostats and checked things off his task list that his father had emailed. Soon the furnace was heating the chilled air. I watched as Edward took care of some pool maintenance, trying to help where I could, but I had little knowledge on taking care of a swimming pool. When he was done, we headed up to his boyhood room.

The moment we walked through the door, memories came flooding back. I walked around the room and touched various things as I thought about the past. Turning on his LED mood light, I watched as it cycled through all the colors of the rainbow before looking around further. Edward was unpacking our suitcases and humming very softly, once again.

Sitting on his bed, I ran my fingers over green and blue squares on the comforter. "I'm kind of tired," I admitted with a yawn, stretching my arms over my head. "Do you mind if I take a nap, babe?"

"Not at all. In fact, I might join you. I haven't been sleeping all that well. Oh, speaking of which, I guess I just assumed you'd sleep in here with me. Would you rather sleep in a separate bed?" he posed as he sat on the bed facing me.

"I thought I'd sleep with you. I mean, we always slept in this bed together, so I didn't even think I wouldn't. Is that all right?"

"Yes. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't making decisions for you without your input. I'm trying really hard, but every so often I forget. Like this," he confessed.

"Not a big deal," I said as I pulled my socks off and lay back on the bed. Edward curved his body around mine, spooning me. I noted he took his socks off as well and the bottoms of my feet found the tops of his and slowly began stroking the delicate skin there.

"We should set an alarm, don't you think?" I nodded and set my phone alarm. It took no time at all for us to fall asleep.

I woke several hours later to an empty bed. When I reached out for Edward and felt nothing, my eyes popped open, and I became slightly panicked. Then I looked around. Suddenly, everything came back, and I realized when and where I was.

Finding Edward in the kitchen wasn't a surprise, but the amount of food he had prepared was. We hadn't bought that many groceries, but he informed me he thought it would be a nice gesture to cook for my mom, so he returned to town and picked up a few more things. I washed my hands and started helping him prepare several dishes we'd bring for my mom to freeze. About the time my mom would be getting home from work, we were loading the dishwasher and labeling the ten meals we'd made.

When we arrived at my mother's, she answered the door with a huge smile on her face that only widened when Edward handed her the bag full of food. "Oh my goodness, boys. What have you done here?"

"Edward thought you might enjoy some ready-made meals, and since we've taken cooking classes, we've become quite the chefs, you see," I teased.

"Well, thank you. Come in. Come in," she said, giving us each a smile as we entered her home. "What can I get you to drink? I have beer and wine, soda and water. Oh, just come in here and get it yourself while I put this stuff away. This is your house, too; make yourselves useful," she told me with a squeeze of my hand.

"Actually, Elise, I was just dropping Jasper off. I need to go mow the lawn at my parents' house, and I think you two need some time to talk without me here. It's really good to see you though. I'm sure we'll get a chance to catch up later," he said with a wink.

"I'm going to hold you to that, Edward," my mom said as she reached for his hand before retreating to the kitchen to put the food away.

Turning to him, I couldn't help but smile, appreciating how intuitive he was. He knew I needed to talk but realized she wouldn't be nearly as open if he had stayed. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I held him tight to my body.

"Thank you," I whispered, "for being here with me and reading when I needed to be alone. I love you for that."

"I love you. Just call when you want me to come back, or do you want me back at a certain time?"

"I'll call," I said with a nod and watched after him until his blue car disappeared down the street.

"You really love him, don't you?" my mother's gentle voice sounded from behind me.

Turning to face her, I couldn't help the smile that spread across my lips. "More than I can even express. I'm so lucky he was willing to give me a second chance because, God knows, I didn't deserve one."

"But we give second chances to people we love, son," she sincerely relayed as she lead me by the hand toward the living room. "Edward is a good man and so are you. I'm sure you boys can work through it."

I let out a sardonic laugh and wondered how I had gotten so lucky to get a second chance. If my mother knew the extent of what I'd done, I'm not sure she'd be thinking I was such a good man, especially in light of the knowledge that I'd hit Edward just as my dad had hit her.

As we settled in comfortably in the living room, my mom made small talk about our trip over and how we had spent our day. I told her we ran into my dad at the cafe and she nodded, saying she wasn't surprised. It seems he ate there most afternoons.

"Tell me how you're doing, Mom? Does he bother you or try to intimidate you?" I needed to know this. It was one of the reasons I had to come to see her. I needed the visual evidence to reassure myself.

"No. I think he realizes what he did was awful. Whenever I see him around town, he always looks at me with such sad eyes and he tells me he's sorry."

"Wait, you aren't thinking of going back to him, are you?" I was worried.

"I don't believe there's a future for your father and me. I'm a changed woman, and he's still the same man. That's not a situation I'm willing to allow myself to be in a third time."

"I see. I'm glad to hear that. I've been worried. Maybe it's because I'm so far away or that he's still in Forks, I don't know, but I've been fearful that he's going to sway you to give him another chance. It's your life and all, but as your son, I feel like you already did that," I shared, my stomach knotting at the cold realization I was now that man being given the second chance. I feared I'd fuck it up like he had.

"You know, Jasper, I grew up in a household where physical violence wasn't unheard of. I saw my daddy slap my mama and call her awful names, but she just brushed herself off, fixed her hair, and kept on cooking supper. I told myself I'd never marry a man who did that to me. When your father first started to change, it was so subtle I didn't really notice. It was a bad day, or he was ill, or he had just gotten back from a particularly stressful mission. I always had an excuse. We'd been married for years before anything happened, and I thought we had a great marriage especially when compared to some of our friends. He never cheated on me and always made sure we were provided for.

"But his prejudices were always there, and the way he assigned blame when he found you and Edward sleeping in the same bed … well, that was a horrible day for you and me. But then it got better and eventually stopped all together. I attributed it to the anger management and therapy sessions, thinking that they worked, but he never actually changed. He just didn't see those things that he hated or feared anymore. He no longer saw you and Edward together and never had a chance to see the way you boys used to touch. He wouldn't have liked that," she said as she reached for my hand.

"I don't think there would have been anything that could have improved the outcome," she uttered with sadness. "Your coming out was bound to set him off, and he blamed me. But you needed to come out. Scapegoating was the only way he knew how to handle it, and that's his loss. He pushed his wife, daughter, and son away, and now, he's alone."

"I feel bad for him for having so much hate he can't get past," I shared.

My mom nodded and added, "But no one could have told him that or made him see what he was risking. He had to experience the losses for himself."

"You seem so calm and at peace with this, Mom."

"I'm just done allowing him to control me. I've taken a lot of steps to make myself more independent and self-reliant. I feel strong, Jasper. I have some wonderful friends who've helped and been very supportive once I shared what happened. He won't hurt you anymore, whether directly or indirectly, and neither will I. Many things are going well. So yes, I'm at peace right now."

"How are you liking your job?" I asked.

"Very much so. It's much more enjoyable than anything I've done. Oh, I wanted to tell you; my friend Judy and her husband Steve are giving me driving lessons."

"What? You've been driving for years. Why do you need driving lessons?" I chuckled.

"Because, I'm going to be driving to my son's art show in two weeks in Seattle. And I'm going to be doing it all alone."

"Are you serious? How are they teaching you to drive in city traffic when there isn't … well, a city around here?" I laughed.

"Oh, Steve has gotten some of his friends together, and I practice merging at parking lots and such. I know it's not like the real thing, but I'm not going to drive into Seattle at rush hour, so I think I can manage it. Judy's been a godsend. She's the one who encouraged me to do this."

"Wow!" I sat there speechless as she beamed with pride.

"I let your father run so much of my life without even realizing it. I don't think it was ever an equal partnership, so I've had a lot to learn. Now, tell me about you and Edward," she switched gears with a smile, shifting in her seat to face me more fully.

"I'm living back at his house, and slowly but surely, we're becoming partners again. We're taking it really slow though. I sleep in my old room, but we're making almost all our decisions together," I said as I watched her face. I wasn't sure how much she wanted to know about my relationship with Edward, but that was answered by her next question.

"So, you're not having sex yet?"

"Mom!"

"Oh, come on, Jasper. Do you think I'm naïve? You were sleeping in the same bed for months. You're lovers. In fact, you told me so at the hospital. I know you boys have had sex."

I wrinkled my brow and pressed my lips together as I made eye contact for only a moment.

"Hey," she intoned as she reached for my hand. "What's going on?"

"This isn't really something I want to talk to my mom about, you know?" I admitted.

"I see. I'm nearly fifty years old, Jasper, and while I don't fully understand the mechanics of two men making love, I can see when two men are _in_ love. It's obvious you and Edward are. I know you've probably seen me as a prude all these years…"

"Mom, if you're about to tell me about your sexual revolution as a young woman or some sort of reawakening of your libido or something like that, I don't want to hear it," I said as I put my hands to my ears. She gently removed them and pulled my chin up with her fingers so I'd meet her gaze.

"Nothing of the sort, dear. What I was going to say is that sometimes we need to put down what we've been taught is 'right' or 'expected' and do what our bodies tell us to do. Whoever decided what 'right' was anyway?"

I sat there looking back and forth between her blue eyes, unable to form words, but my face spoke for me.

"What are you afraid of, my sweet boy?" she asked as she rested my head against her chest like she used to do when I was a child. My arms instinctually wrapped around her waist, and I leaned into her small body.

"I never told you this, but," I closed my eyes so I could get it out, "something really bad happened, and I hurt Edward when I was making love to him." I scoffed. "Okay, I wasn't making love to him, I was … well, anyway, I refused to touch him intimately, except for kisses, until recently."

"Why?" she asked as her fingers trailed through my hair.

"I was afraid of hurting him again, and I've hurt him so much already. I broke his heart."

"Jasper, why don't you let Edward decide what he's willing to risk in your sexual relationship? Is he ready for more than you've allowed yourself?"

"God, I can't believe we're talking about this," I said as I shook my head against her chest.

"Believe it. You have a PFLAG mother now, and I'm going to support you and your relationship with the man you love. It's that simple. That means I've needed to get past some of my expectations of what relationships are like. You're never going to have a traditional relationship with him, whatever that is. You're a gay man, and there isn't a script for you to follow, so write your own," she encouraged empathically.

Lifting my head, I leaned back and studied my mom's face. "What have you done with my mother?" I jested. "Somehow, you've replaced the conservative woman I know with some sort of progressive gay advocate. Not that I'm complaining, but I'm just a bit shocked here."

"Oh, Jasper," she chuckled. "There's so much you don't know about your old mother. I wasn't always a military wife."

"But the way you talked to Edward at the hospital—"

"And I never should've done that. It was wrong and insensitive, but I was fearful of what your father would do to you and, honestly, what he'd do to me as well. I acted horribly, and I owe Edward a huge apology for that. Now, stop trying to change the subject. Is he ready for more? Are you ready for more?"

"Yes, on both accounts," I admitted.

"So what's stopping you then? Fear isn't going to cut it, Jasper. Edward isn't going to sit by idly and let you hurt him. He'd say something, right?"

I shrugged my shoulders, and she shook her head.

"You've talked things through, I assume," she stated, and I nodded. "Whatever sort of imbalance there was, it's been addressed. Isn't that so?"

"Yes. But what if I mess up again and then lose him for good?"

"Do you want to be his friend or his lover?" she asked in all seriousness. "Because that's what it comes down to. If you want to be his friend, then be his friend, but if you want to be his lover, then you have to open yourself up, risk it all again."

"You know," I pondered, "the crazy thing about all of this is that I was the one telling Edward I couldn't simply be his friend a month ago. I don't know what happened, but I thought I was waiting for him to be ready, and the moment he was, I freaked out."

"You need to decide. It's not fair to Edward."

I sat there with furrowed brows as my mother stood and squeezed my knee. She heated up some food for the both of us. As I ate, I did so in near silence, absently listening to stories she relayed about her job and life. She was safe and wasn't being bothered by my father. Now that she was working, she was also financially secure, so my trip had been a success. I had seen what I needed to see.

At nearly eight, I called Edward to come and pick me up. He spent a few minutes talking to my mother as I finished a few minor household repairs for her. I heard her apologize to Edward for the way she had treated him months ago in the hospital and then continue to speak to him. He was gracious as ever and easily accepted her heartfelt words.

I was silent as he drove out of Forks on the familiar road to his house. Occasionally, I'd see him look over at me, but I kept my gaze directed toward the passenger window.

When we walked in the house, soft music was playing, and a bottle of wine was open on the kitchen counter next to two glasses. As he poured, I asked about his evening.

"I mowed the lawn, showered, and ate. Nothing too exciting. Other than that, I've been looking through the bookshelves to see if there was anything to read. It's odd being back here without Mom and Dad actually," he shared.

Taking a sip of my wine, I nodded in acknowledgment.

"Is everything all right with your mom? Did you find out what you needed?" he asked.

"Yeah. She's doing great actually," I smiled at the memory of her confident face as I followed Edward outside to the patio. He turned on the outdoor heaters to cut the chill as we sat down in the decadently cushioned chairs. "She's going to drive up to Seattle on her own for our show," I said with pride.

"What? Oh my God. That's … that's huge for her."

"I know. It's like she's a different woman: confident and self-assured … at peace."

"Why do you seem so pensive then?" he wondered with concern.

I looked out at the darkening yard, just able to make out the tree house. The sound of the swollen creek could be heard, water rushing down from the mountains on its way to the ocean.

With a deep breath I admitted, "She just gave me a lot to think about." I glanced over at him and saw worry cross his brow. Attempting a comforting smile, he returned one.

"Anything I should be concerned about?"

I didn't want him to worry, but I felt like I should be honest as well. It was a dilemma.

"I just need some time to think, Edward, to sort things out."

Biting his bottom lip, he stood and set his glass down on the table before sitting on the ottoman in front of my chair.

"I'll give you time, Jasper, but I no longer want to be pushed to the side." Taking my free hand in his, I set my glass down to reach for his other. When his eyes met mine, I felt the power of his feelings for me hitting me square in the chest. "No matter what it is, love, I need you to know that I want all of you. Every centimeter."

Leaning into me, he pressed his lips to mine. I easily welcomed him inside, tasting him, the wine, and the garlic he must have eaten at supper.

"I love you, Jasper."

"I love you too."

When I heard the gentle click of the door shut, I reached for my glass of wine again and took a sip. I'm not sure how long I sat there, but eventually I knew my answers weren't going to come from solitude or darkness. Shutting off the heaters, I went inside and set my empty glass on the kitchen counter. Edward wasn't anywhere to be found, so I climbed the stairs to the third floor, hearing soft jazz coming from his room. He was standing outside on his small balcony, wrapped in a blanket and sipping his wine. When I cleared my throat, he turned and smiled at me.

"Hey," he croaked with an emotion-filled voice, and I immediately felt guilty.

"I didn't mean to worry you. Come on," I urged, "let's go to sleep."

I needed to decide, so I pulled my shirt over my head and my pants and underwear down over my thighs before I slipped into bed. Edward did the same, and when he stood in front of the bed, in all his naked glory, I couldn't help the journey my eyes took over his beautiful body, pausing for a few extra moments at his thick, flaccid cock. When he turned to climb into bed, he sat on the bed first, and I stared at his full, flawless ass. I swallowed, filled with desire as he slid in next to me.

The moment his bare skin touched mine, I sighed aloud and pulled him into my chest, burying my face in his hair.

I didn't dare move. Afraid if I did the slightest friction would cause me to not think logically. I needed the naked truth that we once shared. I needed to see if this was what I wanted or if I wanted something different.

Edward's fingers interlaced with my own in the center of his chest, falling away only after his breaths became heavy and his muscles had stopped twitching.

He slept. I didn't. Too much on my mind.

_What was my body telling me to do? What was my mind telling me to do?_

As I pondered my questions, which only brought about more questions, my fingers moved down Edward's chest, landing in the nest of curls below his navel. I trailed my fingers through the coarse hair, relaxing with each pass. Before I realized, I was drifting off to sleep.

#

The next day seemed to fly by, or at least the morning did. Perhaps it was because I was often deep in thought or that we ended up going to nearly every store in Forks. Rather than risk physical injury while we were out, Edward and I had decided, prior to leaving the house, that we'd keep our public displays of affection to a minimum, not sure Forks was ready for an openly gay couple to walk around holding hands and kissing. Initially, I was thankful for the physical distance, but as time wore on, I craved his touch and had to remind myself not to reach out and brush a lock of hair off his forehead or caress his long fingers.

We ran into a few people we knew from high school, making small talk with most and getting more in depth with a few others. It was well known Edward was gay and a few asked if he was seeing anyone to which he answered yes, but left it at that. No one knew about me, and I didn't really feel the need to tell people I didn't give a shit about, so I didn't.

After lunch, we decided to hike in the woods behind Edward's house. When we returned around four, we were both physically exhausted. The quick showers we both took seemed to help some but not to the extent we had hoped. As I sat on the patio, Edward ran in the house to "get a few things." The few things ended up being a picnic basket filled with food and wine as well as both of our bags that had our sketchbooks and pencils in them. When he went back a second time, I got suspicious and followed him, catching him digging through the bottom of the linen closet.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm looking for my mom's outdoor blankets so we can go and sit in the grass and not come back with wet asses. Oh, and bug repellent, in case we need it."

"All right. I think I saw some Herbal Armor Repellant in the mudroom. I'll grab that," I offered.

"Thanks. I'll meet you by the tree, okay?"

"Sure thing," I said as I found my target and grabbed the items already on the patio, making my way to the tree. It was huge, larger than I remembered; the trunk covered in green moss. Standing beneath it, I turned to look toward the stream and tree house, observing the scene I tried to emulate with my words sketch. It was more beautiful than I remembered.

Edward joined me shortly with an armful of blankets that he carefully laid out. As we got situated, we each pulled out our sketchbook and started to lazily draw. It was relaxing and rejuvenating. Every so often, we'd talk about our show or what we wanted to do after graduation. Edward was waiting to hear back from all of the companies he had applied to and was nervous he'd graduate with no prospects. "There's still time," I encouraged, though my words were empty sounding since I had a job offer in hand. Nonetheless, he remained positive.

I noticed he kept looking up at the tree to a certain spot on the trunk. I saw nothing where his eyes continually landed, so I dismissed it and returned to my paper and my sketch of Edward as he reclined on his side, propping himself up on his left elbow.

After a time, he pulled open the picnic basket and started serving cheese and bread, along with fruit and wine. We ate small portions and talked about memories we had of our times in his yard. Finishing up, Edward placed everything but the wine in the basket and suggested we go across the yard and check out he tree house.

Climbing up the wooden stairs, I was fearful they'd break under my adult weight. I was probably just over one hundred twenty pounds the last time I'd climbed them, but they held fast and supported my weight. The ceiling was low, and I had to duck so I wouldn't hit my head. But this wasn't your ordinary tree house. This was a Cullen tree house that had been designed by Esme and built by contractors. Inside, it had compartments, much like a camper would, with a fold-down table and built-in seats revealing hiding spaces for toys and tools. We had filled them with various items we'd find on our hikes.

Edward joined me on the floor and saw that I was looking in a small nook in one of the corners that also doubled as a small seat. He started to root around in a tiny niche as well and came across broken art pencils and a few pieces of pottery we had made in art class. I guess we felt the space needed a personal touch or two. We laughed, and I continued my search in the corner.

"What did you find?" he wondered with enthusiasm.

"Just some rocks and … wait. What's this?" Lifting a large rock, I pulled out something sealed in a plastic baggie.

"Oh my God," Edward groaned, and when I looked at him, he was red. "I know what that is. Fricking porn."

"What? Edward Anthony Cullen! Are you telling me you stored pornographic magazines in your tree house, a play place for children?" I teased.

"Yes. That is exactly what I'm telling you," he said with no shame in his voice, but the blush continued to cover his face.

"Let's see what we have here," I winked. "It seems to be in noticeably good condition considering the humidity. You really got a good seal on this bag, I see. Perhaps you should work as a curator in a museum," I said as I pulled the aging magazine from the bag and opened it. "Oh, ho. It seems Edward had a penchant for boys at an early age."

"Come on, Jasper. Just stop," he pleaded.

"I'm just teasing, babe. I had porn stashed under my bed … of a completely different kind, but…" I stopped and tilted my head in the dark room as I thought for a moment. "Now that I think about it, I paid as much attention, if not more attention, to the men in those magazines. Perhaps I wasn't comparing them to myself like I told myself," I said as I ran my fingers through my hair. "I don't think I ever had just a girly magazine. God! The things that you remember when you come back home, huh? How I didn't recognize the signs I was gay, I'll never know. But Edward played in his tree house with porn. What sort of games?"

Pulling the magazine from my hands, Edward got defensive. "It was a lot more than that."

"Right, you got it for the articles, I know."

"Hey, don't knock it, 'til you read it," he said with a wink. "This place seems like it shrunk. I didn't think we grew that much since we were sixteen, but I guess we did. I'm getting claustrophobic. I'm out of here."

After he left, I paged through the magazine for a few minutes, realizing that, if I'd had something like that when I was in high school, I probably would've recognized my sexuality a lot sooner. Not that I would've done anything about it with my father the man that he was. Nonetheless, it was frustrating that it took me so long to really know myself. And there I was again, trying to figure out what I wanted … who I wanted to be. Friend or lover?

Descending the ladder with care, I found Edward by the river, throwing rocks into the rushing current. It was noisy, and he didn't hear me approach and jumped, startled when my arms wrapped around him from behind. Atop my hands, his joined mine, interlacing our fingers. We stood there for many minutes, silent and unmoving. It was there, with the water moving so quickly, the water I had drawn my confessions in, that I realized what I wanted.

With him in my arms, I felt so much more at ease and relaxed. The morning spent hands-off had illustrated that better than anything.

Burying my nose in the crook of his neck, I breathed deeply, taking in the smell of soap and skin. Our joined hands moved across his abdomen and down, searching for him. I wanted to touch the one thing I had denied myself and see if I could hold on to my control. My mother's words came rushing back. I reminded myself that Edward was a grown man who could tell me to stop, and I now knew I would.

The moment my hand touched his firm cock through the rough denim, his hands reached back, one grasping desperately at my hair and the other at my hip. It was as if he were holding onto me so I wouldn't disappear.

"Don't leave," he begged, and I was confused, wondering where he ever got that notion.

Then it clicked: his dreams. He'd mentioned them only once, but the image they brought to mind was powerful, and the feelings they evoked were forceful.

"Never," I said into his sideburn. "I'm not going to go anywhere." My hand held his thick cock, rubbing along his entire length while he held onto me firmly. "Look at me, baby. I need to see you, and you need to see me."

His eyes were closed tightly as he turned, never losing his grip on some part of me as he faced me. "Don't leave."

"Hey," I said as my hands cupped the back of his head. "I'm here. I'm not going to vanish. Please, Edward. Look at me," I said as I circled the tip of my nose along his scruffy jaw.

When his eyes met mine, they were glassy and wet. "Is this real?"

"Yes. It's very real." I stared at him for a few moments, trying to read his fears and convey my own convictions. Just barely brushing my lips on the softness of his, he sighed into my mouth, and I couldn't continue as slowly as I wanted to. His breath called to me, and my lips found his, my tongue exploring his mouth in a fresh way, finding unique ways to dance with his.

"Yes!" he exclaimed as I licked down his neck and kissed around the neckline of his shirt. "Blankets," he said before I bit down on his neck in the same place that I loved so much. "Blankets, Jasper. Now."

Walking backward, I refused to take my hands and mouth from him, knowing it was essential to him. Once he realized this, he turned us and then spun in my arms so we could both walk forward; my mouth attached to the back of his neck the entire time. As we reached the soft blanket on the grass, he circled back to me and lifted my shirt over my head. Pulling me to the loopy, green fabric on the ground, he soon lost his shirt, and we were chest to chest, kneeling in front of each other.

The sounds of his rushing breaths were mixed with the music of birds calling to their mates carried by the supporting orchestra of insects. I could hear the wind blowing high in the trees and the river continuing on its quick course.

"On your back, love, please," he urged, and I readily complied, anxious and excited to be touched by Edward once again.

His mouth traveled across my shoulder and chest, exploring and peppering kisses along the way. Every so often his tongue would peek out to taste me, spending extra time licking and sucking my nipples into his warm mouth, tightening the flesh to an excited state. Down the center, he licked my chest and stomach, essentially joining the two halves of a whole that I'd been for much too long. His mouth was soothing every ache and doubt I had, and I arched into him so he wouldn't lose contact.

The sun was starting to lower in the sky, not setting but hiding behind the lush leaves on the lofty trees. My eyes danced across the sky, chasing the clouds and the geese that flew in formation overhead, as Edward removed my remaining clothes. Instinctually, my hands gripped his hair for a moment before he slid so low I couldn't reach him.

"So beautiful," he said under his breath as he licked the top of my foot and began kissing up my leg. When he reached mid-thigh, he returned and followed the same pattern on the other leg.

I could smell flowers blooming: lilacs, perhaps, strong and heady, as Edward began licking my inner thighs, alternating between each. I lifted my knees and allowed them to drop open to the delighted sounds that he released.

"It's been so long," he said as he stroked my legs. Something in me said not to look down, so I continued to study the sky, watching a contrail form behind an airplane that soared above. The condensation created by the heated plane plumped and grew, much like my cock.

Then I felt it, his mouth enveloping my balls, taking them in, his tongue teasing and rolling them around. When he pulled away, I felt the cool air hit the wetness he left behind.

His tongue licked around my heated flesh and up my hard cock. Finally, he reached for me with his hand and stroked my length a few times before gingerly licking around the head. Then I felt him tease my frenulum and slip his tongue through my slit. My eyes rolled back in my head. They stayed there as he took my cock deep down this throat. I was completely encased in his mouth and I could no longer _not_ watch.

Pulling my upper body up, I rested on my bent elbows and watched as Edward slid his wet mouth up and down my shiny cock, slick with his saliva. He stared at me, never breaking contact, even as I started thrusting into his mouth. Even as I pushed all my length down his throat, he watched me.

My eyes were pulled away by motion, and I realized he had unbuttoned his pants and was touching himself. Dropping my head back, I could no longer hold myself up. He continued to suck me for a few minutes, but the moment I felt I had control again, I pulled away and rolled him onto his back, making my way down to his perfect cock.

The moment the silky skin over steel hit my lips, my eyes fluttered shut. I had forgotten how good it could be to have him in my mouth, to have him inhabit me. His taste, his smell, his feel. I'd missed it all, but it was so much better than I remembered. Even the sound of my lips and tongue sliding over his flesh. I worked further and further down, my lips finally meeting the base of his cock while the head sat snugly in my throat. Pulling back to breathe, I looked up and saw Edward giving me the sexiest smirk I'd ever seen.

His mouth was next. I had to kiss those lips, but it surprised him at how quickly I attacked his mouth. I was conflicted, wanting to suck him and kiss him and unable to decide. Sucking won out, and I returned to his rigid shaft, burying it in my throat repeatedly, earning me lavish praise with his vocalizations. He was getting close, but I didn't want him to come in my mouth. Well, actually I did, but I wanted him to come elsewhere more, so I pulled off of him and moved lower, licking and sucking his balls.

"Jasper, you have to stop, or I'm gonna blow, seriously," he said as he pulled me up by the arms to join him, face to face. "How about we start with getting my shoes and pants off, huh?" he quipped and then I looked down to find his pants down mid-thigh. I hadn't even noticed.

Sitting between his feet, I untied the laces and pulled off his pristinely white shoes, then removed his socks. Rather than continuing to undress him, I took some time massaging his feet that were certainly sore from hiking. It was good to slow down and give our bodies a rest. I didn't want it to be over too quickly. I chose to pull his jeans down and off completely but to leave his underwear on. In fact, I decided to slide them back over his rock hard cock. I needed to see them on, not gathered down around his legs.

They were grape colored boxer briefs with text and guitars and wings and even a peace symbol scattered around the material in a lighter purple. The underwear was trimmed in black and right on the basket was a lace. Of course I untied it and had to do a little exploration with my mouth and tongue. Could I gain access through the laces? Fuck it, I decided as I realized I wanted to see his ass.

"Turn over?" I asked and he quickly did with a cocky smile on his face. The wide waistband just barely covered the start of his crack and I couldn't help but run my finger along the material and slowly ease it over his full ass. "Fuck, Edward. Look at that ass," I said aloud before I realized it and pulled his underwear completely off.

He looked over his shoulder at me and smiled as I ran my hand over each cheek, reacquainting myself with the feel of his ass under my hands. I'd forgotten how good it felt to have my hands full, able to knead his flesh with my fingers and palms. And to kiss it and bite it and…

I couldn't help myself. I needed to. So I slipped my tongue along the line where his ass met his thigh. He arched into the sensation for a moment before he stopped, flipped over and then pushed me over onto my back.

"No you don't. That's my privilege now, so roll over so I can eat your ass," he said in a deep growl that made my cock grow harder. I quickly rolled over and felt him tease me, trailing fingers over my ass, around my ass and finally he touched my balls and moved up, touching me right where he promised. "Do you like that, Jasper?"

"Fuck yes."

"Do you want my mouth on you?"

"Yes!"

"Like this?" he asked as he exposed my hole with his hands and slowly painted it with a wide, wet tongue.

"Yeah, like that," I panted.

"Or like this?" he taunted as he traced around me a few times before kissing my pleated flesh.

"Mmhmm," was all I could manage.

"This?" he teased as he pushed into my body with his wet tongue, and I found myself pulling up onto my knees to give him easier admission. "Yeah, you like it," he said with confidence as he started working me over, combining everything along with bites and kisses on my fleshy cheeks. I was being knit back together with each taste he took of my flesh, becoming the man I had been before everything went wrong. Once again, Edward was my panacea, the tonic for my soul, for my body.

Before long, I was fucking his tongue and nearly coming undone. It felt so good, and I was moaning and begging him not to stop.

"Do you want me to make you come like this, Jasper, or do you want me to fuck you? I think you're nearly ready for me."

"Oh fuck, Edward. How did I never know you talked like this before?"

"Because you were always the one doing the fucking," he said as he rolled me to my back by grabbing onto a hip. "Now it's my turn, and you're going to fucking love it when I thrust into you and hit you right where you like it. I'm going to make you come so hard you're going to see the face of God, and I'm going to keep you there for so long that you'll memorize what he looks like," he said in a low voice and then winked. "Oh and I expect a detailed description to make sure you got there. 'Cause you've taken me there on more than one occasion, love."

I hadn't noticed several things, it appeared, because at some point Edward had retrieved lube and a condom from his messenger bag that was halfway open. I only noticed when his slick finger started to massage the skin around my ass, urging me to relax further and giving me decadent pleasure as well. My eyes rolled back as he penetrated the muscle, and while I expected some burning or pain, I felt none as his tongue had lavished so much attention on me that I was ready for him.

"Now," I implored, and he quickly sheathed his cock.

"I'm going to go slow, and I want you to tell me if there's anything that hurts, love. Will you do that for me?" he asked in all seriousness.

"Yeah. Now, stop dilly-dallying."

He laughed a hearty laugh and nodded before a beautiful smile passed over his entire face. Leaning over my body, he pressed his lips to mine and then spoke in a hushed serious tone.

"This is very important to me, Jasper, so please, let's not rush this. Never again will we have our first time like this."

"I'm sorry, Edward. I've just wanted this so badly for months, and my body is literally aching for you right now. Please, baby. Make love to me. I want you to fill me. I want us to make everything right again, like only you can." I shared my deepest desires.

He circled the slick head of his cock around my entrance and spoke. "Everything _is_ right, Jasper, and we've made it that way _together_. I love you," he said as he pressed forward, penetrating me and slowly filling me. My legs wrapped around his lower back, and I took deep breaths as he pulled out and gently thrust deliberately into me again. His eyes never left mine.

There was no pain like I'd experienced before, only pleasure and a sensation of being completed. He took his time, placing kisses in strategic places on my neck and face, places he knew I liked to be kissed and licked and bitten. He was doing it all, occupying my mind until I felt his thighs pressed against my ass. I was wrapped around his entire length, and he looked at me with such love and devotion I couldn't contain the tear that snuck out of the corner of my eye.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, no doubt misreading my emotions.

"Not at all."

Pulling out nearly all the way, he then trust forward, resting more of his weight on my body trapping my cock in between us and giving it wonderful friction as he continued to move inside me. His head rested on my shoulder from time to time before he'd look back up and stare deeply into my eyes. Watching him possess me was the most intimate experience I'd ever felt. I never knew it could be like this.

Sitting back on his heels, Edward reached between my legs and held the base of his cock as he pulled out of me completely and slipped back in again, several times. Each time, I moaned at the sensation and watched his face as he concentrated on his movements, adding more noise to my already free vocalization.

I thought I'd already experienced all there was to offer when he lifted my legs and rested my ankles on his shoulders, leaning into me. That's when I felt _it_. It was as if he hit the whip button and ramped up the pleasure tenfold.

I grasped at the blanket and the grass beyond, ripping blades from the ground and smelling the fresh scent hit my nose as he fucked me harder and harder.

"Yes, fuck me, Edward. Fuck me harder"

His hips pounded into my ass as his mouth gently caressed the skin on my ankles and the tops of my feet. All over his body, a thin layer of sweat was forming as he exerted himself in bringing me pleasure.

Reaching for my aching cock, I barely touched it when I realized I was closer than I imagined. When I pulled my hand away, Edward looked deep in my eyes as if he was trying to read me.

"Close," I managed to get out between thrusts.

Occasionally, his hips would slow to an undulating rhythm that felt more like dancing, and he eased up just like that after I admitted I was on the edge. Apparently, he wasn't, and he was expertly manipulating my body to bring me greater pleasure. I reached out and started to play with his nipples once I sensed more control return, pulling and pinching his already erect flesh. Every time I roughly pulled away, he'd groan, so I licked my fingers and did it again, allowing the cool evening air to tease his sensitive nipples just a bit more before I took him between my fingers again.

"Do you want to look at me while I come in your ass or do you want me to take you from behind while I fuck you hard and stroke you?" he asked, managing to get no more than three words out between thrusts into my willing body.

"Just fuck me hard, and I'll be happy," I admitted, loving when he thrust hard.

He pulled out of me and urged me to kneel in front of him, as he pulled me up, resting my back against his chest. Turning my head, I opened my mouth to him and tasted him as he pressed his hard cock back into my anxious body. Tangling my fingers in his hair, I didn't feel as if our connection was lost because we weren't face to face. Rather, I felt closer as he breathed in my ear and whispered soft words, turning me to kiss him every so often.

"Oh, yes," I said as he held onto my hips and started to thrust harder and faster, but I wanted more, so I fell to my forearms and started thrusting back on his cock, impaling myself even further. When he leaned over my body, the angle of his dick changed once again and he was able to tease my nipples while lavishing my back with kisses. I could feel beads of his sweat land on my back and roll down to mix with my own.

"You're fucking amazing, Jasper. Arch your back, baby love. I'm gonna make you see God now." I readily arched and that's when I felt it again, that intensity that made me feel like I wasn't going to be able to hold on. And then he reached for my cock to stroke it and started to bite my back. I was on sensation overload.

"Fuck. Coming. Fuck," I shouted as the vision behind my closed eyes seemed to flash, taking on a life of its own as my body released intensely and seemingly never ending. I cried out with a guttural moan that probably scared the birds, I didn't notice, as I shot my load and my ass spasmed around Edward's thick cock. I kept shooting, unable to stop. When I finally opened my eyes, I looked down at the blanket and saw the mess I left behind, come still dripping from my cock.

Edward was collapsed across my back, panting with his arms around my waist, a hand still holding my dick.

"I think I saw God," I rasped through my now apparently sore and dry throat.

"Oh?" he chuckled against me and kissed several of the scars on my back. "I think he looks like a sunburst of light, very much like prismatic light. Is that how the rainbow became our symbol?" I asked and received a hearty laugh in return.

"Maybe, though I don't think that's the official story. But that's exactly what I've seen, so it's possible"

I didn't want him to leave me, loving the way his softening cock felt in my ass, but he pulled out nonetheless. We quickly cleaned up and he reached for a folded blanket and drew it over us to keep away the chilled air.

Resting my head on his shoulder, I kissed his chest and reveled in the feel of his skin on mine, soaking up the euphoria I was still riding.

"I'm sad that you're not still inside me," I admitted. "I like how you feel."

"It's nice, isn't it?" he said, understanding me perfectly. "Don't worry. It won't be the last time."

I sighed heavily with contentment as his fingertips trailed over my back, following my scars in the pattern that he used to kiss. It only took a few moments, and I was sleeping against his chest.

When he jostled me awake, it was dark out, the moon having slipped above us in the sky.

"Hey, we should get inside before you freeze," he said with concern.

"I'm not cold at all. Just lay with me under the moon for a bit," I encouraged as I rolled onto my back and wrapped my fingers around his upper thigh. The sounds of the night surrounded us as the moonlight washed everything in an ethereal glow. We both rested, gazing at the sky above.

"Are you ready to tell me what was bothering you earlier?" he asked with apprehension.

Taking a quick glance up at him, I smiled and turned back to the moon. "I was trying to make a decision that, in the end, was so simple."

"Oh?"

"My mom said I had to trust that you'd let me know if I hurt you again, and if I wanted to be your friend, I needed to be your friend, but if I wanted to be your lover, I had to risk it all." I flipped onto my stomach and rested my chin on his chest, watching his eyes that were betraying some doubt. "Risking it was what I did, and I'd risk it again at the chance of being with you."

"I love you so fucking much," he said as he dragged my body up his so he could get to my mouth to devour me.

The moment I shivered, he pulled away, forced me to stand and wrapped the blanket around me, pointing me toward the house. I obediently went and watched as he gathered everything we'd carried outside.

After a quick shower to warm up and clean off, we started the wash and dug through the fridge for food. I was ravenous, though I didn't notice until the food was in front of me. Once we cleaned the kitchen up, we got ready for bed and climbed in nude again. My short nap made me feel wide-awake, though I knew my body was exhausted, and I remained wrapped around Edward.

"Hey," he said, checking to see if I was still awake. Turning to face me, he seemed shy and hesitated. "So … was it good or what you expected?"

"Are you kidding? I saw the face of God, remember?" we laughed together. "Why so shy, Edward? You know you're a great top."

"I do?" he chuckled and shook his head. "I'm more concerned about you since it was essentially your first time where you were treated with patience. So?"

"Yes, it was the best orgasm I've ever had, and I'm not just saying that to boost your ego or some shit like that. I was ready, and it was honestly nothing like before, but then again, how could it be? I was with someone I love this time. No comparison. And I think I get what you were saying earlier this week about no pain. Hard is good," I admitted with a smile.

"See? So, no more fears that you hurt me, okay?" He looked at me with all seriousness, and I nodded, ready to finally drop the self-hate. It was time to truly live in the present.

"Okay, come here my little bottom," he teased as he placed a kiss on the center of my chest. "It's time for me to be the big spoon; now, give me your ass."

I readily turned and backed into his chest, feeling his warm breath wash across my back. Our legs tangled together and he brushed his thumb across my tattoo, lulling me to sleep.

* * *

**Edit: 3/7/2012**


	33. Risk

**Risk**

As the sky darkened above and the pin pricks of light started to shine in the curtain of blackness that covered the earth, I couldn't help but think back and feel amazed that I was finally resting with Jasper in my arms once again. Despite our mistakes, we both realized we had to forgive each other and ourselves if we were ever going to be able to move forward.

Forgiving ourselves ended up being the more challenging task.

But we were there, reclining under our tree after making love with the sound of the cleansing river washing past us and giving a chance at a fresh start. When the first firefly sent out its signal, I watched and waited for a reply, counting the seconds before another light began to glow. One by one, the insects emerged for their evening meeting, coming together and slowly filling the sky with their bioluminescence. It was perfect.

I had the man I loved in my arms, feeling completely sated and safe. He had finally given himself permission to let go of all his baggage and just be. I knew how hard it had been for him because it was challenging for me as well.

Well, technically, he let go of most of his baggage. He was still fearful of hurting me, so he refused to top, which was fine with me … for now. When I had asked if he never wanted to top again, I really didn't want to give him the chance to answer. He was still in a state of distress and fear and that wasn't a place you wanted to be when you were making decisions. But for now, this worked.

It did more than work actually.

"Mmm, Edward. I love you," Jasper said in his sleep as he nuzzled further into my chest and momentarily tightened his embrace around my waist.

Trailing my fingers across his back, I buried my face into his golden curls and kissed the top of his head. "I love you, too, Jasper. Now, just sleep, baby love. Relax. Shhhhh."

"Smell so good," he murmured as he took several deep breaths, and I couldn't help but chuckle. He was so endearing when he talked in his sleep, letting me know things that he often held back when he was awake. That, however, he would have readily admitted.

We were both being honest with each other and ourselves. It was truly refreshing. But that had taken a lot of very hard work. For over a month, Jasper and I seemed to keep trading places. When one of us was ready for our relationship to become more, the other wasn't. Then it would switch. It was a miracle that we were resting together naked under the moonlit sky at all.

After I had run to the school studio, practically dislocating my shoulder in my haste to tell Jasper that he was right—that I had been a complete asshole by trying to fix everything without his input—we spent the entire day at the coffeehouse talking. So much came out in those hours, and I was feeling very close to him, sensing how much he wanted to reconcile as well. While I thought I had lost him forever and was only hoping for friendship, it was evident that he craved more. He told me how perfectly we fit together and that he loved me. I loved him, too, but something terrified me, and my gut reaction told me that he still didn't trust me. It was his trust that I felt I needed more than anything, and that would take time to rebuild. I wanted him to freely come to me with his worries and his fears. Somehow, I needed that to happen so my faith in him could grow once again. But how could that happen if I never saw him? How could we trust each other if we never _had_ to trust each other? So I asked him to move in with me so we could work together and have those opportunities to grow and trust again.

Then _I_ freaked out.

The look on his face told me he unmistakably wanted to be more than friends, but that was where I felt we needed to start. It was too fast, but I didn't want to take my offer back. His friend Zoë interrupted us, giving me a few moments to think and try to calm my reaction to Jasper just telling me he wanted to move back home. I was glad for her diversion but quickly became jealous by the way they talked to each other. They had a special bond that was very evident, much like the connection we once had. She set a stone down on the table, and I fingered it. Apparently, it helped with forgiveness and healing a broken heart. As Jasper and I continued to talk about things neither of us really wanted to, we passed the stone back and forth, using it for virtual strength to get through our frightening admissions. It certainly felt like it gave me strength.

When I told him about the two guys I had been with, I wasn't sure how he'd react. I didn't want to start out with lies hiding in the closet. I only saw his honest understanding.

When I talked about how I had controlled so many things from the sidelines, including bottoming because I wanted to be his first, he slipped into my booth and held my head in his hand and kissed my temple.

"Edward," he reassured me, "you were my first everything. You were my first true friend. You were the first person I ever willingly shared my art with. You were the first boy I shared a bed with. You were the first man to ever touch me with love and affection. You were my first best kiss, and I hope you are my last best kiss. But more important than all of that, Edward," he caressed my jaw so I would look him in the eye as he told me the crux of his feelings, "you are my one and only love. No one will ever have my heart because I already gave it to you, and you're the only one I will ever trust with it."

His declaration was beautiful. Everything I wanted to hear. Everything I needed to hear.

Jasper's feelings reflected my own. We owned each other's hearts.

And since our fight I had doubted it all.

I closed my eyes and started to weep inside. The image he painted for me was absolutely perfect, and I could picture us side by side for the rest of our lives. We would be beautiful together, unlike anything I had imagined before. I was positive that he was it for me. I wanted to be more than his partner and lover. I wanted to be the everything he said I was.

But I couldn't be yet.

My love for Jasper was so strong … all encompassing.

But that was the problem.

It had taken over my better judgement. It had made me do things without his input. And I had lost who I really was in the process.

Where had Edward gone? With other men I was assertive, confident, and above all, completely honest.

How had I lost those things with the one person I knew I wanted to be my forever?

He deserved to know who I really was as a lover, not the watered down version I'd shown him because I was so fearful he'd leave. And I deserved to have him love all of me, not just the pieces I allowed him to see. He had a right to see me in control and to have the opportunity to fight with me and work it out. I needed to know that we could fight and that he wouldn't leave me over a disagreement.

But I'd never allowed that to happen, and it truly came down to trust and faith: in myself, in him, and in our relationship. We needed that if we would ever be gray-haired men walking hand in hand in the park. I wanted to be those men, wearing our wool cardigans and enjoying a sunny autumn day.

Perhaps we could never have that. But at the very least, I could have him walking by my side as my friend … as my best friend. It was how we started out, and even though it had pained me for years to not have him love me the way I loved him, I had him in my life everyday. I needed that. The last several months while he was gone … away … absent, I felt like I had been floating. And not in a good way. I was out of control and was searching for the ground.

And there was my gravity sitting beside me in that coffeehouse bench, grounding me, and brushing his fingertips against my overheated skin, finally allowing me to sense a modicum of security. I wanted so badly to pull him into me and never fucking let go. I didn't want to lose that feeling. When he slid his fingers through my hair, I actually stopped breathing and felt myself losing control. The simple act of touching me nearly did me in, but I saw myself losing my resolve and getting lost again.

As much as it hurt me, I had to be completely honest.

"I'm not ready for this yet," I confessed even though I wanted nothing more than to be. I was terrified of losing him forever, so I let him know, "I'd rather be your friend for the rest of my life than risk something not working out. You're too important to me."

So he didn't move in.

And I deluded myself into thinking we could simply be friends.

But Jasper knew it wouldn't work.

During the week he worked at my house, I did so many things wrong. I could see that now with Jasper in my arms, his breath fanning across my bare chest and the damp spring air surrounding the cocoon of blankets we had created under our tree. I could feel it in my bones now as his weight pinned me beneath him in such decadence. He had been hoping that I'd open my arms to him when he walked over the threshold of my house that day. And in a way, I did, but in many other ways that mattered, I shut him out.

I did what I could at the time, what I was able to do emotionally, while I was in the mindset of simply preserving our friendship. What that ended up being was cooking and doing other small pieces of care taking like making sure that he felt comfortable in the place that used to be his home. In the end, it was glaringly obvious that wasn't possible. Not entirely. Not solely.

Working together felt natural, and our work conversations flowed smoothly. Our visions were very similar for the show and we easily worked through many decisions. I didn't see it at the time, but we kept moving closer to each other, and soon, our bodies were in contact. I didn't notice it until Jasper said he needed a break right after we returned from lunch. It made no sense to me.

Suddenly, I realized I was making this harder on him. I was the one who said I wasn't ready while he had admitted to wanting me. Yet there I was, leaning against him, touching his skin, reaching across his chest to hold various pieces in my hand. I was slowly beating down the paper-thin armor he had quickly built around himself in less than twelve hours. I needed to know what I could do to make it easier for him.

"There will never be anything you could do to make yourself less desirable to me," he said with a pained voice before he left the studio.

He was gone a long while before I realized I had just been sitting there staring at the door.

Standing, I returned to the kitchen and did the only thing I could think to do. I cooked. I'd already made him feel on edge, so the least I could do was cook him some comfort food.

After he returned, I sat in my chair, and he sat on the daybed. I didn't need to make this harder on him, or on me for that matter, though I wasn't quite being honest with myself yet. That took some more time and a few more incidents.

If anything, I confused him more with whatever means I used to attempt to comfort him further. That was evidenced by his reaction on his birthday.

I had wanted to do a little something for him, and since I could see how stressed he was, I tried to find something to help him wind down. One night after Jasper left for work, I picked up the fresh cheesecakes my mom had introduced to me and wrapped the scalp massager in a small piece of fabric I found around the house.

When Jasper arrived on his birthday, he had his hands full with groceries and insisted on cooking for me. It was obvious that I wasn't going to win that argument, so I let him cook his own birthday supper. At least I had dessert.

Initially, I gave little thought to the cheesecake and the conversation my mother had with me. I thought I was buying the decadent dessert because it was easy and I knew Jasper would enjoy it. Now, I could see how my subconscious knew, even then, that we complimented each other.

Jasper already knew that.

Untying the raffia on his gift and lifting the lid off the flat box, I watched his face contort and twist as he tried to figure out what it was. It was funny, and we were having a great time until I put the massager on his head. I saw his skin break out in goose bumps and the delicate hairs on the back of his neck stand as I slid it down his scalp.

I was shocked when he told me to stop because he might come. He was angry, and I was embarrassed. I had no idea something so innocent could have caused him to react like that until he slipped it on my head. Knowing now that he hadn't allowed himself to feel any sort of release for months, his reaction made even more sense to me.

The evening that was supposed to be this innocent, fun time between friends ended up being a comedy of errors, a series of unfortunate events.

As he removed the metal contraption from my head, his fingers curled into my hair, and he pulled me to his lips. I froze. All I could think about were those months of living with his ghost, the months of living without his touch, and eventually living without him in my life at all. I wasn't willing to risk never having him in my life for a few moment of sweet pleasure. He opened his mouth and ran his warm, silky tongue across my bottom lip. I had to wrench myself away from him, not just physically but mentally. I wanted so badly to open to him and let him devour me again. But I wanted his friendship more.

"Jasper. No. I can't do this."

"Edward. I can't _not_ do this," he choked out, tears filling his eyes. It was unmistakable that he needed me, craved me, wanted my love, but I was too frightened.

When I mentioned our friendship, he quickly pushed that thought aside, planting a seed in my mind that immediately took root and started to grow, though slowly, considering it was nestled into the compacted soil of my stubborn mind.

"Love is friendship set on fire. You're burning inside of me, and I don't want to put those flames out. I can't. I want all of you, and I'm not sure I can do without."

And then he left.

And I stared.

And cried.

But I didn't realize the seed had started to take root. I thought we just needed some time apart, that we'd been working too closely, and that soon he'd see I was right. Something was better than nothing. Right?

I was back to nothing though, and it would stay that way unless I did something different.

My arm reflexively tightened around the man that was now at my side. It had all worked out, even if it had taken a very, very long time. I jostled him awake; we showered, ate and finally settled in to sleep in my childhood bed. The moment our legs tangled together in their familiar embrace, I reached for his wrist to silently tell him how much I loved him. I'm not sure who fell asleep first.

#

Piercing through the foliage, the glass and the sheers on the windows, the sun managed to wake me before it did Jasper, who was curved into my chest, his face protected by his halo of curls. It took me a moment to realize where we were and that we had finally made it inside after the fireflies had decided that their meet and greet could be taken to another area of the forest and the night air became too chilly for us.

Gently prying myself away from Jasper's warm body, I was able to make my way to the bathroom without waking him. As I brushed my teeth, I noticed a change in my eyes. I looked more relaxed, at peace. I knew why. I had finally allowed Jasper to see my assertive side, and rather than running, he loved every single second of it. I couldn't keep the smile from spreading across my lips.

I retreated to the kitchen of my parents' home in Forks without further disturbing Jasper, who was lit up by the morning light that was surely warming him. Measuring out the coffee grounds and hitting the on button, I retreated to the pool while the coffee brewed.

I hadn't remembered to bring my suit, but I didn't really need it. Taking a shallow dive into the deep end, I started to swim laps. The cool water running past my shoulders, over my back and trailing around my naked groin started to wake me up. As my lap count increased, I began to think about how much help I had along the way back to him. I had pushed people away after I kicked Jasper out, afraid to face the truth that I knew they would show me. Without them, I'm not sure if I would have had the courage to address my fears and eventually do what I needed to do.

Thank goodness for my mother. She unlocked the door with cheesecake. My father opened the door with spirits—very good spirits. And Alice and Emmett forced me be authentic with myself.

Dad and I spent a few evenings together, sipping ice-cold vodka and talking. At first, we only spoke of trivialities or work, but then as the alcohol worked its magic, I started to tell him about my week working with Jasper and how it concluded. He listened to me recount things and refilled my glass when it was empty.

One evening, my mother joined us. Apparently, they'd been talking. The looks they'd exchange as I admitted my ignorance were shaming. I'd missed out on many things that would have been obvious to an outsider—Jasper's intense desire for me and how I only encouraged it, how confusing I'd been making things by asking him to move in then taking it back, even the simple act of trying to make him feel "at home" in a place that he was no longer allowed to live. And I knew he wanted to be back there, even if it was in his old room. That was his home, his only home. Since the day that his father hit him in high school, he'd felt homeless.

Knowing the whole truth only made me feel worse now. I tried to let the pool water wash away my remaining guilt. Jasper had forgiven me. Unfortunately, forgiving someone else was so much easier than forgiving one's self.

I knew I'd fucked it all up. Mom asked me questions that made me think deeper, beyond where I'd allowed myself to go. One night before I climbed the stairs in my drunken stupor to sleep at their house, she suggested I go out and have some fun with my friends.

Several nights later, I met Emmett at a bar. I don't know how Emmett got out of the house without Rosalie and Jasper knowing, but it was good to see him again.

"Hey, Edward! It's been too fucking long. Buy me a drink to help make up for your absence, okay?" he teased.

"Sure. Anything for you Emmett," I said with sincerity as I sat on the stool across the table from him. "So, tell me. What's up with your life? Anything new?"

"Nah. Not really. Just scouting locations and shit. Let me tell you, there are some really cool places in this city that most people who live here don't even know about. God, I love my job," he said with a belly laugh. "What's new with you?" he asked more quietly.

"Just trying to finish things up and applying for jobs. Not much beyond that."

"I noticed that Jasper's not coming over to your place anymore." He looked sad as he said it.

I swallowed thickly and nodded. "Yeah, well, I'm just making things more confusing for him, so I guess it's better this way."

"Better? Are you fucking kidding me?" he said with severe incredulity.

"No," I said, not understanding him.

"Edward, he was happy that week you were working together, and now, he's miserable again. What the fuck happened?"

Taking a huge breath and releasing it with a sigh, I shook my head. "He basically said he wants more than friendship, and I'm too much of a chicken-shit to go there. I can't imagine losing him for good again, Emmett."

"Newsflash, genius! Have you seen him lately?" He looked pissed.

"No," I admitted sheepishly.

"So, I guess you lost him again then. Didn't ya?"

I threw my drink back and winced at the pain as it slid down my throat. It was minor.

"What did he tell you that freaked you out so God damned much?" he asked.

"Nothing in particular, just a lot of little things that added up to me realizing he was ready to take the risk and I wasn't. And I don't need to make it harder on him than it already is, so it's a good thing we're apart."

"Okay, Edward. You keep lying to yourself. In the mean time, I'm going to look at the actual picture and try to describe it to you, okay?"

I looked down at my nearly empty glass and nodded my head.

"You guys love each other. That's pretty easy to see. He fucked up. I'm sure you fucked up some, too. Hell, we all fuck up, right? Anyway, you've both been wallowing in your own self-pity for a while now. Then you finally talked and admitted things and apologized and whatever else you did. But you got to the point where you were working side-by-side in a tiny studio for a week." He planted his left and right fists next to each other on the thick wooden table to visually make his point about how close we actually were. "You were able to talk and be rational and civil and probably even had some fun, right?"

"Yes. I really enjoyed working with him."

"Yeah, but he enjoyed more than that," he conveyed his message not only with his words but also with a quiet and gentle voice and a sincere gaze. "And if you're honest with yourself, I think you'll see that you enjoyed more, too. The main difference is Jasper let himself take pleasure in things about you that you didn't let yourself even ponder." He wrapped his long fingers delicately around the other fist. "'Cause you were in work mode, and I sure know when Edward gets into work mode, he kinda shuts everything else off. Do you know that about yourself, man?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"You're a persistent fucker. You get something in that pretty little head of yours and then you keep that as your focus." He leaned back in his chair before he started again. "Now, I'm going out on a limb here, but let me just guess. That entire week you worked together, you'd been focusing on working with Jasper and keeping your relationship a working relationship. Correct?"

"Well, I thought I was, but apparently I did things that upset him."

"What, like being yourself? Like maybe touching him or smelling like peppermint or some shit? Or cooking for him? Or giving him the opportunity to see what he's been missing? Like that?"

"Fuck, Emmett. See? That's why it's better this way. We don't need to be together because I can't change who I am, and I don't need to tease him with things that are simply unavailable right now."

"Yes, and Jasper made that decision, didn't he? He left your house and hasn't come back. But he didn't do that because he doesn't want to see all that. He did it because he wants to see and feel that stuff _so badly_ he can hardly keep his hands to himself. He fucking loves you, Edward, and he wants you so badly he can taste it. It's so much a part of him that he dreams about you."

"But—"

"Fuck, Edward."

"No, Emmett, listen," I said as I felt my brows knit together. "I refuse to lead him on when I'm not sure I'm ready to go down that road yet. It's not fair to him, and I love him too much to hurt him again and again. It's just better this way even if it fucking sucks. But it is."

We were both silent as we sipped our drinks deep in thought. Internally, I was still arguing with Emmett, and he was obviously exasperated with me. We each ordered one more round and when they were delivered we took a sip.

"Okay, Edward. I get where you're coming from, sort of. I just have to say one thing. You can hate me if you want, but I have to say it." He gripped his glass tightly with both hands so his circulation appeared to be cut off before he started. "You and Jasper will never be friends. Never. You can't take away what you two shared, and you wouldn't want to because what you guys had was fucking amazing. The way you looked at each other … I've never seen two people more in love than you guys were, so get your head out of your ass and get your shit together." He threw back his drink and left me alone without another word.

Emmett was right. It was useless to keep myself away from Jasper, and as the days passed, our working relationship became more natural again. It may have helped to be working on campus together again rather than in the home studio, but anytime something personal would come into our conversation, Jasper would steer us back to the professional. He had rebuilt a wall, and I could practically feel the fear rolling off of him.

At night, I'd invariably think about Emmett's prediction. It was like his words had been the sunlight and water that Jasper's seed needed to grow. With each day, I felt a little more fire burning for Jasper. I started to notice things about him I had shut myself off to. Work was no longer the sole focus of my time in the studio, and it felt good to open that part of myself again.

The vision of his hands stuck with me throughout the evenings long after he'd gone to work at the coffeehouse. They'd follow me into my dreams and were often the first thing I thought about in the morning. His long fingers tapered perfectly. No matter how soiled they became while he worked on his projects, he had them scrubbed clean before he walked out of the studio each afternoon. They were strong but dexterous. I loved watching the tendons and veins dance across the back of his hand as he squeezed them into frustrated fists. His hands were beautiful in the simple act of drawing because, with him, it was anything but simple. It was a dance that was graceful and elegant and powerful. And as his fingers threaded through his wavy, golden hair, I longed for those winsome hands to be buried deep in my own hair, curving around my unruly strands, pulling them and dragging incoherent murmurs from my throat.

With each passing day, his hands became more important to me. I wanted them on me again.

I wanted more than his friendship.

But with each new day of observing Jasper in this new light, I also saw him pulling away from me. Somehow, I needed to stop his retreat, but I was at a loss as to how. When I'd ask if he wanted to eat lunch together, he'd decline saying he wasn't hungry or needed more time to get further into his current project. I didn't push for fear that he'd wane quicker.

Each night I'd end my day in the backyard walking in his labyrinth, the one he never got to see in its spring glory.

The night I got home from the bar with Emmett, I stood in the center and recalled the drawing I put in the leather journal before slipping it in Jasper's bag. I felt so small at that time and completely overwhelmed. I'd thought he was happy and content with his life then because he always laughed and sang as he worked in the studio. Now, it appeared that the tables had turned. I appeared to be more relaxed while he became more withdrawn. Appeared, mind you. I was still overwhelmed, and I most certainly wasn't happy. Rather than talking about this sort of shit, we were both pretending to go along with work as if all were golden.

But my life would never be right until he was in the center of the labyrinth with me.

I reached out with my fingers and touched the wall of my parents' pool, gliding to a gentle halt as my feet hit the bottom of the shallow end. Sucking in deep breaths of oxygen, no longer having to wait between strokes, I greedily gulped in the air around me. I remained crouched; my shoulders kept warm by the water that slid over them as I pushed the stray drops out of my eyes and away from my forehead. Ever so slowly, my heart rate started to return to normal along with my breathing.

"You're magnificent when you swim," Jasper voiced beside me. When I turned, I saw him sitting on the wide stairway in the corner of the pool, naked as the day he was born and sipping something hot from a mug. He smiled and asked, "Would you like some of the great coffee that you made or would you prefer to wait?"

"Thanks. I'd love some, actually," I said as I stood and strode toward him, my face lighting up.

"I thought you would," he grinned and produced a steaming mug that he presented to me as I approached.

Jasper sat on the second step, and I couldn't help but notice the way the waves of the pool carried and shifted his heavy, yet flaccid cock between his legs. His calves were half way submerged, resting on the step below and he looked completely at ease there. I sat beside him and took a few sips of the hot coffee while my body continued to come down from its exercise induced high. The only sound was the lapping of the water and the birds outside.

"How long have you been down here?" I asked before leaning in and placing a slow, sultry kiss on his perfectly wide, pink lips.

"Long enough to see several beautifully executed flip turns. And might I say, naked flip turns are a great thing to wake me up? Better than coffee," he joked by lifting his mug. "It's a shame that Forks didn't have a swim team, Edward. Seriously," he said with a shake of his head.

"Ah, you liked what you saw, huh?" I asked as I set down my mug and kneeled before him between his feet.

"If I'd seen you swimming nude or even in a Speedo when I was fifteen or sixteen… Well, let's just say I may have been forced to come out a lot sooner because I'm sure my body would've made it painfully obvious."

I planted a searing kiss on his mouth as he fumbled blindly to set his coffee cup down without breaking the pottery or our connection. Once his hands were free, his fingers combed through my wet hair, and he gently pulled.

"Mmm. So, tell me then," I said as our lips parted. "Why is your dick soft and not hard as steel?" Laying my hands on his chest, I leaned into him as our tongues met and said good morning.

"Who says it wasn't?" he winked and pulled back. "But you were breathing so hard that I got a little worried about you. You were really pushing yourself. Do you always push so hard when you swim?" he asked.

"Just recently," I admitted with a noncommittal shrug. "It's therapeutic for me, and I've found some of my best thinking is done while swimming. But the pool is meant for more than swimming laps," I teased as I stood and walked backward down the steps, encouraging him to follow. Although he wasn't used to the cool water, he plunged ahead and joined me in the middle of the pool where the water line just teased his pert nipples.

The moment he was within reach of my hands, I grasped onto him, pulling him to my chest. Our cocks met when I squeezed his ass, and I couldn't help the movement of my hips thrusting into him. Within seconds Jasper was hard and meeting the dance of my hips, reaching around to my ass to pull me closer to him.

"There we go, Jasper. Grind on me," I encouraged as I lifted his body weight and helped him wrap his arms and legs around my body so he could get what he needed. His face was buried in the side of my neck, his warm breath rushing past my wet skin. The grip of his arms and legs around me tightened as his hips pushed harder into me. I met his every thrust.

When his head fell back, I captured the delicate skin of his neck between my lips and followed a path laid out by the moans that were directing me. He told me so much about his needs without saying a word, and I wanted to give everything to him. I was finally ready to listen to it all.

Taking his cock in my hand along with my own, I watched as they rubbed against each other, bringing us both pleasure. Jasper's forehead rested against my own, and we both looked down into the reflective water, watching me stroke us together. Our vision was distorted by the waves and eddies. Our hips rolled and met again and again as our breathing became more labored. It wasn't long before I was breathing nearly as hard as I had when I emerged from my laps. Jasper moaned.

"Edward, it's not going to take much more for me," he said as he peered at me through his lashes. "You'd better stop."

I smirked and created a small amount of distance between our bodies and carried him toward the stairs in the corner of the pool once again. When we reached the stairs, I set him on the step that was just barely submerged in water and pushed him sideways, forcing him to lie across the deep top step in a few inches of water. He leaned back on his bent elbows.

Jasper's toned stomach was right in front of me, and I placed greedy kisses across his defined muscles, dipping my tongue in the valleys and tasting his clean skin. I couldn't keep my hands away from his beautiful chest or ass, so I reached for him and caressed the smooth skin that glided over corded muscle.

"I want you in the water when you come, but your come needs to be in my mouth," I said in a hungry whisper. Jasper leaned back and dipped his head in the water and closed his blue eyes. He looked utterly relaxed, and when I moved my right hand from his ass and circled his hip, he dropped his knee to the side for me.

I buried my fingertips into his trimmed, wiry curls and watched as my hand stroked his steel-hardness. With only a few strokes, he started to ooze from his slit and my mouth was watering as I wrapped my lips around him.

"Oh, Edward," he whispered as he reached for my hair again and started the exquisite torture of pulling it. He knew that drove me crazy, and it made me want to bring him intense pleasure.

And I did, using all my tricks. It didn't take his body much time to offer up his come; I had so missed that taste.

Despite filling myself up on his tasty treat, my stomach ended up growling, and I suddenly realized how hungry I was.

"Come on, Jasper. Let's go make breakfast," I said between licks around his dick, making sure I didn't miss a drop. When he reached for me to return the favor, I shook my head and placed a few firm, but chaste kisses on his lips, letting him know that I was serious about the food.

Breakfast ended up being a large affair as would be expected with us—it being our favorite meal and all. During our mutual shower, Jasper started to innocently wash me but ended up using his hands for a lot more than applying soap, forcing me to spray all over the tiled wall.

We decided to go on a hike again in hopes of finding one of our favorite glacial waterfalls. Rather than starting from my parents' house, we decided to drive further up into the mountains and park before we took off. We both brought good shoes, but this time around I dug through the closet and found two sets of trekking poles for us to use to help traverse some of the more rugged terrain.

By the time we made it to the waterfall, we were both hungry and Jasper pulled out the lunch he had packed. We sat leaning against a large rock, eating and sipping cool water from our Camelbaks while we watched the glacial water spill down the mountain face.

We both sat in awe and reverence for many minutes, perhaps an hour, before Jasper finally asked, "How long had you been watching me stand in the middle of the tulip labyrinth before you finally said something to me?"

"Mmm," I said as I gave him a soft smile. "That was a crazy day from the moment I woke up."

"Oh, how so?" he queried.

"So much happened that day. It had been nearly three weeks since your birthday fiasco when I got a frantic call from Alice," I started before I relayed the events of the day.

"_Edward. Oh my God. I need your help," Alice ran her words together so quickly I barely understood._

"_Alice. Slow down, sweetie. What's going on? Are you hurt? Is Bella okay?"_

_I heard her take a few deep breaths before starting again more slowly. "I have this tasting party that I'm hosting for my catering business, and our house if full of water."_

"_Full of water?"_

"_Yes, full of water." She started to sob, and when she spoke again, her pace began speeding up exponentially. "Some pipe broke or backed up, and the city is here digging up our front yard, and there's mud everywhere, and all my decorations are ruined. Thank God, the food is safe, but I have people coming to a house that can't be entered and no place to cook and prepare the food and…" She stopped and started to bawl._

"_Alice. Alice! Tell me what you need. I'll do anything I can. Do you want to use my house? Do you need help cooking? Just tell me, sweet girl."_

"_Edward," she said between stifled cries, "would you really do that for me?"_

"_Of course I would. What's family for? I'll start cleaning my house right away. When can you be over here?"_

"_Oh, thank you. You don't know how much this means to me. I think I can be there in about an hour."_

"Luckily, my house was fairly clean, and I was easily done by the time Alice and Bella rang the doorbell," I recounted. "Alice took over the kitchen and was directing Bella and me around with decorating and food preparation. As we worked, we talked, and I told them what had most recently happened with us and that I felt you pulling away even more."

"_He needs a grand gesture, perhaps," Bella thought aloud._

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Well, he's put himself out on the line for you a few times now, and you've essentially shut him down. I think he's afraid to put himself out there again. At least, I would be," she plainly stated._

"_Like what? I mean, Jasper's not really a grand gesture kind of a guy. He's down to earth and doesn't really appreciate much fanfare."_

"_Oh, well, I'm not suggesting you hire a skywriter to say 'Jasper, will you marry me?' or anything like that. I just think that you need to be the one that puts your heart on the line this time. That's probably the only way he'll know that you're willing to start trusting him again."_

"_Hmm," I said vaguely before reaching into a box for another string of party lights._

"I wasn't blowing her statements off as it may have seemed. In fact, I was thinking about them a lot and continued to do so as the day wore on.

"By the time guests started arriving in the evening, Alice had everything under control, including her frazzled, emotional state. You never would've guessed the tragedy the morning brought for her when she started answering my door.

"As my house filled up, I started to feel a bit out of place, not knowing anyone. I tried to greet people and help them feel welcome. When I saw Emmett, I was relieved that I finally knew someone but tensed when I saw Rosalie behind him."

"_Edward!" Emmett boomed over the noise in my house, causing everyone to turn toward us._

"_Hey, Emmett. Rosalie," I said with a nervous laugh._

"_Hi, Edward," Rosalie said coldly. "Nice of you to help Alice out."_

"_I'm just giving her a space, not much else."_

"_Mmhmm," she said noncommittally_

"_Sooo," Emmett drew out in nervousness. "I hear there's food at this party."_

"_Oh, yes. Sorry. It's in the dining room. Make yourselves at home, please. I'll be around."_

"_Right," Rosalie said with sarcasm._

"I didn't say anything, choosing to retreat to my bedroom instead.

"She was just being a protective big sister," I reasoned to Jasper, who had an apologetic look on his face, "but it still bothered me that she was acting so coldly toward me. You and I had hurt each other. I'm sure she just wanted to make certain you weren't hurt by me again. I wondered if I would ever stop hurting you at that point.

"After about thirty minutes of resting on my bed and thinking more about what Bella had said, I decided to rejoin the party and stopped in the dining room to talk with her again. I started to speak about generic things as I reached for a sculpted hors d'oeuvre. As I took a bite, I looked up and saw a very familiar head of curly blond hair walking toward the laundry room. I thought, 'It couldn't be.' But then I saw Alice giving Zoë a kiss on the cheek before Zoë followed you out the door."

Jasper reached for my hand, and his eyes softened, encouraging me to continue.

"My heart was beating so loudly that I swear the entire room could hear it. I walked to the laundry room, wanting to go outside to talk to you, but I resisted, not having a clue how to handle the unexpected situation. I walked back into the kitchen to see if Alice needed anything so I could be distracted. I couldn't find her anywhere and I couldn't stop thinking about you standing in the backyard. Would you see the labyrinth? What would you think? So I headed to the studio. I could see you for only a moment as you stood on the lighted patio alone.

"Then you walked into the grass, and I lost you from my sight, so I stepped outside the studio and silently watched as you walked into the labyrinth. I stood in the shadows as you followed the path to the center. I literally felt my stomach flip-flop with the excitement and terror that you were really there. Once in the middle, you turned in place, looking at the flowers with awe and wonder as if you were trying to figure out how I could've known in the fall how important the labyrinth and tulips would be to you.

"I couldn't resist you," I admitted as I looked down and studied the wet, mountain rocks beneath my feet. "You were finally there in the center of the labyrinth where I'd wanted you to be for weeks. I was terrified. Even my breathing was shaky, but I kept thinking about what Bella had said. You needed me to put myself out there. It was my turn, so I silently approached and watched your face continue to question the flowers.

"'It was coincidence. Or fate,' I told you. I honestly felt it was fate. Since the moment I first saw the tips of the leaves begin to pierce the earth, I knew that there was more to that labyrinth than I'd ever imagined when I planted it. I didn't know if you'd ever see it, but I spent countless nights surrounded by the flowers. It was the only way I could be with you, so I was out there all the time, tending it, mulching it, making sure it was taken care of. It was a very poor substitute for you, but it was all I could have at the time.

"But when you were standing there in the center and I made my way to you, the one place where I'd hoped to have healing and some sort of reconciliation, you refused to look at me. Not that I deserved it at that point. I didn't want to scare you so I stood behind you. I wasn't going to touch you but my body had other ideas. I needed to feel you against me again.

"And I confessed, telling you that it was my fault you were gone, that I missed you, and that I was afraid to trust. But more than anything, it was much more frightening to consider not having you in my life for even one more day. Because that's what it came down to, Jasper," I said as I finally looked into his searing blue eyes. "I was willing to risk it all because I want … need to have you in my life for as few or as many days as I'm granted.

"It was finally my turn to tell you what you needed to hear," I whispered as I reached for his face, tracing a labyrinth across his skin and stopping by his ear just as I had done with my mouth that night.

"Please come back to me. I want you … so badly," I repeated my words from that night, a tear trailing down my cheek as my eyes closed.

"Don't cry, Edward," he breathed into my ear as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. "It worked out, baby. It's all good."

"I know, but it was just such a powerful moment for me. I'd been holding out and being stubborn or I or blind for so long, and something finally clicked while I stood there in the center of that labyrinth with you, like I should've been standing all along."

"Hey, we got there, and that's what matters. Our time apart … we both needed that," he pulled back and met my eyes with a very serious look on his face. "We grew, both of us, and it's evident to me in how we are today, right?"

I nodded and straddled his lap, pulling him into a deep embrace. His smell was one of the most potent elixirs to relax me and force me to be honest.

"Remember when I asked you to sit with me and I climbed into your lap like this?" I asked with a smile as I met his gaze.

"How could I forget? It was beautiful, and it said so much."

"I didn't know if you would fully understand it. I wanted to declare my need for you amidst our tulips because they were full of significance for us, so I asked you to sit with me."

I pulled his hands into my own and started kissing them like I did on that night. "Remember me telling you how much I missed your hands? I was just thinking about that this morning while I was swimming."

"Yes. I didn't know what you were going to say or do that night, but I wanted to memorize the way you touched me, so I closed my eyes so I could drink it all in," he shared.

"Was that it?" I laughed as I kissed each knuckle. "I could tell you were afraid. I could hear it in your breathing, and I knew you needed more from me. Somehow, I had to convey my message in a different, more physical, way. That's why I climbed into your lap. I hoped you understood my message. 'I trust you. I'll go anywhere with you. I'll be vulnerable for you.'" I paused and looked deep in his eyes, tilting my head as I saw the understanding sink in.

"I felt utter bliss when you told me I was everything you've ever wanted, and I had to tell you that I couldn't live without you," I shared. "When our mouths met, I felt like the world was finally right again. I wanted it to go on forever, but of course, we were cock-blocked by pretty much everyone we knew that night." I remembered with a shake of my heard.

"Oh, and don't forget about it happening again the next day after our cooking class," Jasper joined in. "Just as you were grinding into my ass, making me beg for you to fuck me, Zoë called. I wanted to kill her even though I knew we shouldn't just jump right back into bed."

And with that, Jasper and I started to reminisce about our cooking classes and how he got drunk during our first session. It had been refreshing to see him so light-hearted during our Sunday afternoon classes.

As we talked, we methodically made our way down the mountain back to my car. When the terrain became more treacherous, we stopped talking, and I started thinking about the sexual role reversal we'd experienced.

I truly felt that those classes and all of the meals we subsequently cooked together helped us heal our friendship. Healing our sexual relationship was a different story entirely. I'm convinced, if we hadn't been cock-blocked twice, that what happened next would never have happened at all.

Jasper got scared.

Perhaps he was always scared, but it seemed to really freak him out whenever I'd try to take things beyond kissing. As we worked in the studio together, we'd end up on the daybed making out. I was usually on top of him, kissing his neck or ear, and my hips would automatically start to roll forward. He'd always pull away and insist we get back to work. If I tried to unbutton or pull up his shirt so I could kiss his chest, he stopped my hands from advancing. Occasionally, he'd flip me over onto my back so he could make sure we _only_ kissed. I was starting to get frustrated. He apparently needed something more from me first.

We talked a lot, often getting lost in conversations that lasted for hours. He told me things about his father that made me very angry. How could a father treat his son with such blatant disregard? But little by little, Jasper seemed to be healing by telling me these things. So, I kept my mouth shut and just listened to what he was willing to share. I did share the things that had made me angry and let him know about my hurts as well. He felt he needed to know that.

He told me about Dr. Victor, and we finally talked about his call to the suicide hotline. That was a very hard day for me. Just the thought of Jasper wanting to take his own life nearly made me physically ill, but I ignored the sensation and focused on everything he said, verbally and non-verbally. As he relived that day that ended in physical violence, I saw that he thought he had turned into his father. He hadn't, if you asked me. He could never be that man. Jasper was kind and caring and sensitive and altogether honest—even if it occasionally took him longer to share the truth. He felt horrible that he hadn't talked to me and kept saying "If only." I could see he was going down a bad path, so I had to ban the use of that phrase.

"Today and tomorrow matter, Jasper. Not yesterday. Let's start over. We've talked about the past, so let's put it behind us and work on the future, okay?" I asked.

"Okay, Edward, but please know that I'm sorry."

"Jasper, no more. We've said all that we need to. I forgive you, and I love you."

Something happened to me, changed me, through the talks even though I already thought I'd been healed for the most part. One evening, not long after Jasper had left for his shift, I found myself standing in my closet staring at the nearly naked space that used to be his. The only things there were the art pieces I had hidden away. Sitting on the floor, I started to study the works intently. I no longer felt an ache when I saw them. In fact, looking at them seemed to soothe me, so I started to re-hang them throughout the house. Although only half of the pieces I wanted were up, it felt more like a home again. I watched Jasper as he realized I'd replaced the art. He quietly moved from piece to piece, studying them with near reverence. I believe that the art back on the wall was healing for our relationship.

The studio was starting to feel like the workspace it used to be as well. Jasper left more and more tools on his desk as the days passed. The only things he didn't bring over were his sketchbooks and the shelf they used to sit on remained empty. There was only one thing that ever belonged there and it would stay naked until the day he decided to put his sketchbooks back there. I really wanted that day to come.

Each evening as we ate supper, I could see a sadness overtake him. At first I didn't know what it was until it didn't happen on a Saturday. That's when I realized it was the fact that he had to go to work. He was tired, and as much as eating and working at my house helped him, he still had to leave every night. I decided to ask him to move back home even though I was afraid he might pull back even further. I wanted him home with me and was delighted when he said yes. Sure, he'd be staying in his old room, but the day that his stuff was unloaded, I felt contentment like I hadn't felt in over five months. He was finally home, and it was ours again. All our art pieces on the wall and his sketchbooks sitting on his shelf in the studio were the finishing touches we both needed to feel at home again.

We had been working in the studio on a very rainy day, the sky so overcast that we had to turn on the lights to be able to work. It didn't take long for Jasper to be affected by the drab weather, and he decided to lie down on the daybed. He was so beautiful there, all stretched out with his long legs both slightly bent as he rested on his side. I had tried to resist getting too close for most of the day, but I finally decided to sit beside him and run my hand down his strong bicep. He responded with a smile that encouraged me to taste his mouth and breath him in. When I moved my kisses down his neck and palmed his crotch, he pulled away.

"No, Edward. I … I think we … we just shouldn't. Not now."

Shaking my head, I couldn't help but feeling rejected. How had our dynamic changed so drastically from him begging for us to be together to him fearing anything beyond a kiss. But it had, and I felt there had to be a way that I could help him feel empowered. I had gotten over my fears by simply being in his presence and reaching out. That didn't seem to be helping him. In fact, it seemed to be making him even more fearful.

Though Jasper hadn't said it outright, he eluded to the bashing as a turning point for him and our relationship. I was a little fearful to talk to him about a civil suit against Jessica and Mike and thought I had done the wrong thing when we returned home from the meeting with the lawyer and he headed out to the labyrinth. In the past, I would have left him alone and waited for him to talk to me about his fears, but I had learned a lot in the prior months. I followed him outside and got him to talk to me. Suing someone was a huge deal to Jasper because he felt he was taking the easy way out. But he needed to see that they stole his livelihood from him, and taking action, any action, would help him feel more power. It was that simple, and he readily admitted it when the sky broke out in rain.

After we ran in the house and stripped, I saw the tattoo he had inked on his forearm. It was beautiful on his creamy skin. Then I realized what the image was and guilt tumbled through me. I had stolen his cuff, taken back his Christmas gift of all things, because it was too hard for me to see him wearing it and because I thought it would be better for both of us. I had thought! I had been so presumptuous. When I offered it back, he told me to give it to him when I was ready and fully able to trust him. I should have gone that second and given it to him, but the moment I felt his bare skin on mine, I lost all sense. I wanted him so badly! But then he literally ran away and locked me out.

I somehow needed to help him get past his fear of becoming intimate again, and that became my focus. He needed to feel pleasure and release, and I wanted to be the one to bring that to him again. It was time.

I'd have to show him he wouldn't hurt me, too. When I asked if he wanted me to top, I saw relief wash across his face. He had thought he had truly injured me. I'd have to show him he hadn't, but before I could do that, he needed to allow himself simple physical gratification with me. So when I stepped into the shower with him, that was my goal.

Since nearly our first sexual encounter, I had been doing ass-play with him. It was so natural to me as a top that I hadn't even really thought to not taste him or finger him while I jerked or sucked him off. But since Jasper exclusively topped me, I did less and less as time went on. If he wanted me to top, I wanted him to see how good it could really be. So I took his ass, and only his ass, in the shower. He fucked himself on my fingers, and I couldn't help think what a natural bottom he was. The way he arched his back for me and responded to the touch of only my fingers inside of him was stunning to watch. I let the old Edward out to play a bit, too. For months, I'd been holding him back, keeping him subdued. Finally, I whispered dirty things in Jasper's ears and could see him physically responding to my words.

But he came so much quicker than I expected. Sure, I knew how to stimulate a guy to a hands-free orgasm, but that was amazingly fast. When he admitted to not having come since Valentine's Day, I couldn't hide the shock. Of course, that helped explain him coming so quickly … though, considering how long he'd waited, he held out a long time.

As we got dressed after our shower, I slowly but surely put more of the pieces together. He had pulled away in January after things got stressful. Stress and sex didn't go hand in hand for Jasper … obviously. At the end of that month, his mother had called him, and he found out she had been beaten by Jack. That had to have been shocking. I wished I would have seen it earlier, but I didn't, and I felt horrible about not being there for him. When I'd finally pushed the issue about his withdrawal, we ended up fighting. I remembered eventually coming to the realization that Jasper must have honestly believed he'd turned into his father that day by losing control in such a physical way.

He withdrew even more and buried himself in his work, understandably. Elise needed money so he … well, he did what he did … and he scared himself even further by being rough with me that night and basically fucking me through the mattress. That freaked him the fuck out!

That's when all affection stopped, and he refused to sleep in our bed, at least while I was still awake.

What that now told me, in no uncertain terms, was that Jasper had no more trust in himself.

He needed to see that I trusted him. It would only be through my unmistakable trust in him that he'd be able to forgive himself.

"Hey," Jasper's voice had brought me out of my thoughts that night, and I turned to see him putting his cell phone and wallet in his pocket. "I have to go to work."

I rose to meet him and gently traced his bottom lip with my thumb. "Have a good night. Flirt like crazy so you get great tips," I teased with a smile.

He leaned in and pressed his full lips to mine. "I love you. Have a good night."

"Love you."

I followed him to the porch and watched him drive away; staying there until I saw his taillights disappear around the corner. In all honesty, I hated when Jasper went to work. It was simply the loneliest part of my day. It was only a few hours a night, but during those hours, I longed for him.

It was always hard for me to see him leave. Most nights, I could busy myself with some project, even an unfulfilling one, but that night, while I managed to let him go without betraying my feelings, it was impossible to escape from them myself. Moments after he left, I potently sensed his absence and ended up staring at the sketches we did of each other on Christmas Eve. I reached for his, tracing the detailed curves his hands had so easily created. His style was so different than my quick, glancing outlines that suggested shape and form. I moved over to the photograph he gave me that day. We truly looked amazing together with our contrasting skin and hair tones that were made much more obvious by the black and white photography. My forlorn mood only worsened while looking at images of us at a time when things were seemingly perfect. At least we felt connected at that time and able to freely touch each other.

Music. I needed music.

My music calmed me and allowed me to think more clearly. I needed to consider what I could do to help him get through his fears of sexual touch. Talking was the obvious thing, and we'd already started. I needed to continue relaxing him with my words when we touched. That had helped so much in the shower.

When he returned, I had to hold myself back so I wouldn't attack him the moment he walked in the door. I started singing along with my music to keep my mind busy and give him the time he needed to wind down after his shift.

Without being completely cognizant of my actions, I eventually found myself leaning on his door jam watching his back move as he breathed while lying on his bed. When he turned around, I was surprised he was still awake. He invited me into his room and eventually his bed, wrapping me in his arms and immediately taking the loneliness away.

Resting there with him felt so natural. I felt safe and protected with his body next to mine.

In the morning, Jasper seemed happier than he had in some time, and I slept better than I had in months. That was the day he was offered a job. I was so happy for him, and it was good to meet his new boss. I was more than surprised when Jasper kissed me so boldly right in front of Elizabeth. Jasper had been out for months, but I hadn't really expected him to be so forthright with his boss from the start. His strength was evident to me, and it only made me love him more.

All week, I kept going back to the shower we took together and the realizations I'd made because of Jasper's admissions. He needed me to take control and show him that he was trustworthy again, but it would take some time. He needed to see that I trusted him. Sleeping in his bed with him seemed to ease his mind. I'm not sure what he'd been thinking, but literally over night, Jasper started reaching out to me and offering me more physical affection. Not overtly sexual, but he'd caress my back or reach for my hand with ease.

I spent the rest of the week encouraging him to touch me and telling him he deserved to feel good. "It's just touch, Jasper," I'd say to calm him when our touches became more sexual. Whenever he did something that felt good, I let him know—from barely grazing my cock to grinding against me. I hoped I could take his mind off his fears by letting him know he was bringing me pleasure. By the time we got on the ferry on the way to Forks, Jasper was feeling much more at ease with spontaneous touch. He held me as we looked for sea life on our quick journey across the sound, and I could feel him totally relax. It was then that I felt we'd be okay.

In Forks, I got very nervous when Jasper's father walked into the diner, but that ended up going very well. Jasper handled it with strength and poise. I was very proud of him.

While Jasper visited his mother and eased his mind, I kept myself busy with the mundane, trying to not miss Jasper. I couldn't expect to be with him every second of everyday after all. But after being apart for so many months, I almost felt like I was going through withdrawal every time we said good-bye.

On the drive back from Elise's house, Jasper was quiet and pensive. He made little eye contact and made no move to touch me. I initially assumed it was because of his conversation with his mother, but as time went on, his mood didn't lift. It scared me a little. I was glad I had the forethought to open a bottle of wine to help us loosen up. When I found out things were going well with Elise, I finally knew I had to ask if something was bothering him. He told me he just needed time to sort things.

Sort what things? I thought we'd just spent the last few months slowly sorting things. One thing that was different this time was that he asked me if it was too much for me to wait. I was nervous as hell, and while I wanted to ask more questions and get him to talk to me, I had to respect his need for time, even if it was killing me. And raising doubts in my mind.

As hard as it was, I left him alone but only after I told him I could no longer be pushed aside and that I wanted all of him. Climbing the stairs to my room, I tried to shut off the fears. We'd made so much progress in coming back together in the previous week. How could a few hours apart have made that big of a difference? Had I done something wrong?

In my room, I found a CD of some jazz to play and tried to distract myself by looking at objects around the room. Nothing could divert my attention. Rather than fight it, I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and grabbed my wine glass before opening the balcony door.

The cool, spring air smelled good. There were flowering shrubs just below my balcony, and the fragrance drifted up as I leaned on the railing.

How had it changed so drastically again? We had nearly been on the same page, or so I thought. Were we ever going to find the right timing so we could be ready at the same time? Maybe I had fucked it up by not kissing him at the coffeehouse during our first apologies, or by paying attention to the small crowd that had gathered as we kissed in the labyrinth, or by letting Zoë's phone call take him away from me.

What if I had pushed him too far in the shower?

He had never seen me act that way. Perhaps it frightened him to see me so dominant. Had I been too assertive? I'd always been more passive when we made love. I was anything but passive in the shower. But he would've pulled away sooner if that was the case.

Right?

He did see his father and his mother, so maybe it had nothing to do with me. His mother seemed so supportive of our relationship, even apologizing for how she had treated me last fall. She seemed to be proud that Jasper and I were together and honestly appreciative of our love.

I was so confused, and the one person that could answer my questions and settle my fears needed time. He knew what he needed. Who was I to question that?

I couldn't lose him again. A lump quickly grew in my throat, and I tried to swallow it away when I heard Jasper cough behind me. I turned my back to the balcony railing and smiled at his beautiful face. When I spoke, my voice betrayed the fear and sadness I was feeling. He stripped down to nothing and crawled into my bed. He hadn't been so brazenly nude before me in months. As I watched him settle in, I doffed my clothes and watched his gaze travel across my body, lingering on my cock. I became self-conscious and sat on the edge of the mattress before sliding in next to him.

He sighed the moment my back touched his chest and pulled me tight. Our fingers interlaced, and I immediately felt myself calm. I was still confused, but the way he held me told me of his love.

When I awoke the next day, I saw that Jasper was back to himself, for the most part. He knew I would listen when he was ready, so I gave him a little more space than I had in the last few weeks. I needed him to know I trusted him to come to me. That was something that had been so horribly damaged before. I needed to give him this opportunity to heal the past and learn to trust himself by confiding in me. He knew what I needed from him. This was most likely the first test for us. We kept busy by running around town. Every so often, Jasper would drift … somewhere, but he always returned.

During our hike near my house, he was quite quiet, but that wasn't unusual. One thing that glaringly stood out was his refusal to touch me.

Back at home, I'd decided I needed some time to process my feelings, so I grabbed blankets and food so we could draw under our tree and munch. It was a magical place for me even if the wonder was dampened by my fear and doubt. When we climbed the tree house, Jasper was acting oddly, making jokes he normally wouldn't and teasing me about the porn he found there. I felt I needed to just let him be for a bit and I also wanted some time to myself.

Standing next to the river, I watched the torrent wash downstream. I immediately thought of Jasper's drawing and all the words he wrote in that stream. As I kneeled to pick up some rocks, I stumbled but caught myself just before the river's edge.

_Déjà vu._

I felt off kilter.

As I threw the rocks into the river, I tried to throw away my doubts and fears. It wouldn't help anything to feel suspicious and apprehensive. Throwing the last rock in, I closed my eyes and felt a soft breeze whisper across my cheek.

Arms surrounded me, and I jumped before my hands met his. I stood there sensing everything. I could feel him relax behind me as he buried his nose in my neck. It felt so good.

But then his hand moved lower, and he reached my pants, palming my length that was quickly becoming hard. I reached for him, terrified my dream had returned, and Jasper was going to leave forever.

"Don't leave," I pleaded.

"Never. I'm not going to go anywhere," he whispered, but I didn't know if I was hearing his actual words or imagining my desires.

He continued to stroke me, and I knew it was a dream.

"Look at me, baby. I need to see you, and you need to see me." His voice was more forceful, insistent. So I turned in his arms, keeping my eyelids closed tightly.

"Don't leave."

Finally, Jasper got through to me by touching me and talking. It wasn't a dream. His mouth on mine was hot and sweet and very real. I begged him to go to the blankets with me. The entire way there his hands and mouth were in contact with me, and I was so thankful. Jasper knew about my dreams and how I had tried to maintain any sort of physical contact so he wouldn't disappear, so he continued to touch me and kiss me. I knew this was really happening, but I was still fearful he would run away. For some reason, the blankets under our tree seemed to feel safe.

#

"Hey! Where'd you go there?" Jasper asked, reaching across my back and pulling me into his sweaty body. We were nearly back to my car, and I realized I'd been silent for almost the entire journey down the mountain.

"Sorry. I was just thinking about this past week and how much has changed for us," I admitted with a sheepish grin.

"So, are you saying you didn't hear a word I said about the art show?" he wondered with his brows raised.

"Uh … nope. No, I didn't hear a thing," I confessed. "But we have the rest of today and then the entire ride back to Seattle tomorrow. Does that work?" I asked with guilt wiped across my face.

Jasper simply laughed at me, pulling me in tighter and kissing my temple. "No problem. The nice thing about hiking is being able to get lost in your own thoughts. At least you were thinking about us," he finished with a wink as the car came into view.

That night at my parents' house, we found my old yearbooks and paged through them, laughing at how awkward we used to be. We were never major dorks or anything like that, but we weren't your typical, all-American, sports-loving boys. As we turned the pages, we would occasionally find doodles of ours that the yearbook staff had asked us to create for the tome.

Jasper's head was resting in my lap as he turned the pages. Soon, he ceased turning them, and his body jerked. He was asleep. Pulling the book from his fingers, he grasped wildly once he sensed it was gone but didn't wake up. I quickly replaced the book with my right hand while I loosely combed through his golden curls with my left. He was so beautiful in his sleep.

But that beauty was nothing compared to what his features did the day before when I slipped my tongue into his tight pink hole and tasted his sweet ass. I felt myself getting hard at the mere thought, praying that my erection wouldn't wake Jasper.

There was something about our love making that felt so different. Sure, there was the obvious: I topped. But it was so much more than that.

I felt completely engaged and in the moment. I was letting him see absolutely everything without holding back a drop of who I was. It was so right, and I could see how sure Jasper was that coming together was right. Everything about our joining felt natural. I tasted him and stroked him, loving his flavor on my tongue once again.

It wasn't long before he was begging me to take him, but this was so much more … or at least I wanted this to be so much more than us simply giving in to our bodies. I needed to let him know how important this was to me. Never again would this happen. It was our first time like this, and it was happening in the most wonderful place I could have imagined.

He desperately wanted me to make love to him and to make everything right. I could feel it in my bones—we were bound to each other in such an elemental way. Making love to him under our tree served me by allowing me the opportunity to take charge of my dreams.

Circling his tight hole with the crown of my slick cock, I told him, "Everything is right, Jasper, and we've made it that way together. I love you." Those were the words I felt in my heart—in my gut—as I pressed into him, filled him and felt his tight tunnel surround me. I refused to look away unless I was kissing or biting or licking him. A tear slipped from his eye, but it was not from pain, only pure happiness. I knew exactly how he felt.

His body welcomed me perfectly, and I couldn't help staring intently at him as I thrust into his eager body. I could only look away on the occasions that his body reacted to mine, squeezing my cock tighter with his muscles. Pulling all the way out, I teased him, entering him over and over until he was begging me to fuck him harder.

It was then I realized I could show him how amazing a good, hard fuck could feel. We'd already done the tender and sweet, and I would've been happy to have slowly worked toward release with him like that, but he needed this intensity from me. He teased my anxious nipples, showing me the ferocity he craved, so I asked him if he wanted me to fuck him from behind. I wanted him to feel it.

"Just fuck me hard, and I'll be happy," he admitted before letting me plunge into him from behind.

I only allowed a little bit of kissing before I gave him a thorough pounding. He loved it, and I loved being inside of him. I had barely reached for his cock, and he was releasing, pulling me along with him as his ass gripped my cock. I collapsed across his back, fully drained.

He saw God.

So did I.

As he fell asleep in my arms and I saw the fireflies come out to play, I felt as if they were celebrating our love. The moon ascended and made Jasper's skin glow in the light. I felt completely content in that moment except that I needed to know what had been bothering him. I shook him awake and suggested we head inside.

"Just lay with me under the moon for a bit," he said with a small smile. It was perfect.

I finally asked what had been bothering him. Something had obviously changed in him. I had seen the change in his eyes by the river. He shared that he had been trying to decide if he was willing to risk it all and decided that he certainly was.

How fucked up were we? Maybe now we were on the same page. I sure hoped so. I didn't think either of us could handle even one more moment on the seesaw.

I pulled him to my mouth and told him how much I loved him. He had to know that! Back in the house, I couldn't resist calling him "my little bottom". As much as I loved him fucking me, it was amazing to top Jasper. I felt like myself again as I stroked his tattoo and fell asleep.

I loved watching him sleep, but my reminiscence of the previous night now had my dick in a serious state of arousal and seemed to be making it difficult for Jasper to sleep comfortably with his head in my lap.

"Hey, Jasper. Wake up. Let's go upstairs and crawl in bed."

"Mmhmm," he sleepily moaned and cracked his eyelid just enough so he could see. He was unsteady as he rose to his feet, so I held onto his forearm until he woke enough to be coherent. "Wow, I really crashed there, didn't I?"

"Yes you did, sweet cheeks."

"Sweet cheeks?" He stopped in his tracks and gave me a disbelieving look.

"You didn't like sweetpea, but believe me when I say sweet cheeks fits you perfectly," I finished with a wink that earned me a knowing smile.

"Take me to bed. I want to feel that tongue and cock in my ass again," he requested after a great kiss. Then he dashed up the stairs like he couldn't wait to get naked again.

Neither could I.

* * *

**Edit 3/7/2012**


	34. Circles

**Circles**

"Five minutes. Just give me five minutes, and we'll get going," I promised.

"Sure, I'm supposed to give you five minutes, now? But you made me get dressed right after you sucked me dry and then fucked my face! I was ready for a quick nap, you know?" Jasper teased as he followed me outside, across the patio and toward the backyard of my parents' home.

"I really need to see something before we leave. It's just…"

I stopped and turned to face Jasper behind me, hoping to show him with a look how important this was to me.

"Hey? What is it?" he asked, suddenly concerned as he caught up and grabbed my hand. I looked down at our joined fingers and tried to form my feelings into words. My feet started to move as I thought.

"The last few times I had my dream I kept looking at our tree. I don't know what it is, but I keep feeling this pull. I just want to study it closer. Five minutes is all I'll need."

"Okay." Jasper's voice was supportive and curious as we reached our destination. "So what are you looking for?"

"There was this spot; I swear I saw it the other night. Maybe I was imagining things, but it was under the moss." Trailing off, my voice was wistful as I extended my fingers and touched the damp surface, looking for … something. "It just looked different."

Jasper joined in my search, though having no real idea what he was looking for. Together we examined the tree.

"Here? Is it this?" he wondered as his fingers seemed to depress deeper in one spot than anywhere else. "It feels different."

"Let me see."

Sure enough, even though the moss was the same texture, something about its foundation seemed firmer even though my fingers pressed in further. Pulling my dad's Swiss Army knife from my back pocket, I opened the large blade and started to use it to carefully pull away the moss. It came off in a fairly large piece that fit in my palm, and underneath, I saw that the outer bark of the tree had been stripped away.

"Hmm. Well, it looks like we may have found it," Jasper said with curiosity as I continued to peel moss away from the tree.

What we found underneath was hard to see at first, having been covered with moss for who knows how many years. But then Jasper made out a line that was much too straight to be natural on a tree trunk.

He held out his hand, and I placed the red handle of the knife in his palm and watched as he slowly revealed something I'd completely forgotten. He returned the knife and we both studied the tree.

Carved into the tree were our initials.

EC

JW

Memories flooded back.

Seventeen-year-old boys sat with their backs against the tree, and I could almost hear the sadness in our young voices.

"It's gonna be weird not having you around everyday," Jasper said to me as I tried to concentrate on my pencil and paper.

"Yeah." I spoke as neutrally as I could. I was leaving for Italy the next morning, and although I was excited about going to study art, I was dreading leaving Jasper. But there wasn't anything I could say to him about that because my face would betray my emotions, and he'd realize I felt more than friendship for him. And he'd figure out I was gay. That just wasn't an option.

"I mean, who's gonna look at my sketches and tell me I need to redo an eyebrow or a nose?" he joked as he bumped his shoulder into mine.

"I don't know. Who's going to tell me I can't call six lines on a page a sketch?" I quipped as I gestured to the page in front of me that was truly a good representation of a piano despite only having six lines. He had told me earlier that a piano needed keys. I disagreed.

"I don't know, Edward." Jasper sighed as he shifted his body and rested his head on my thigh, stretching out his long legs on the grass. He closed his eyes, simply enjoying the serenity for a few moments. My fingers itched to trail through his sun-kissed blond curls, but I resisted. "It's just gonna be boring," he finished before forming an easel with this legs to support his sketchbook. I bent my free leg to rest my sketchbook on and considered adding keys to my piano.

We sat there for nearly an hour without words.

I turned to a new page in my sketchbook and started to absently lay down curving lines. They looked like waves or perhaps what the wind would look like if smoke or mist allowed us to see the air currents, but it was really Jasper's hair.

We sat relaxing in the sleepiness of the mid-afternoon.

I set my pencil and sketchbook down while Jasper still toiled over his intricate portrait of Rosalie. Leaning my head back against the tree, I breathed in the moist, warm air and sighed, enjoying the comfortable silence.

I sat and rested while he drew.

I began to study his face.

His eyebrows furrowed in concentration. His lips pursed one moment, and the next, his teeth would sink into his bottom lip. When his teeth let go, blood rushed under the surface of his pink lips, darkening the shade. His tongue then drifted over the reddened surface.

The breeze rustled his hair while he drew.

My fingers touched the ends of a few golden strands that rested on my jean-covered, bent leg.

I rested my eyes and slumped against our tree.

"Mmm, Edward. That feels good," Jasper moaned, bringing me out of my fog. When I looked down, I saw that my fingers were buried in his hair, and I'd been trailing the strands between my fingers.

I froze.

"My leg's falling asleep," I lied, adjusting my position so he'd get up. I stood and turned my back to him, facing the tree in hopes of hiding my semi-erect penis that had sprung up the moment he moaned _my name_.

I pulled my small pocketknife from my pants and started to nervously cut into the bark of the tree where it was damaged and a section of the skin had been peeled away. Shifting my weight back and forth to make a show of regaining feeling in my leg, I focused on my movements and felt my body cooperating and calming itself.

Moss covered bark fell to the ground revealing a naked spot nearly four inches across before I realized what I was doing and stopped myself from further damaging the tree.

"Can you feel your leg yet?" Jasper said behind me, and I felt his breath pass the nape of my neck and ear.

"Yeah," I managed without my voice cracking, but just barely.

"I'm gonna go down by the creek … walk a bit," he shared before leaving me alone. I stared at the naked canvas before me.

As I replayed the last few minutes again and again, I was so nervous he'd felt my erection bumping up against his head. Perhaps he hadn't. Maybe I got up with enough grace that I didn't stick my dick in his ear. Who knows?

The problem was my daydreaming and allowing myself to get lost in thought. Sure, I'd played with his hair before, watching movies and stuff, but this was different. This was done purely because I wanted to touch him, not because he'd been rubbing his head to ease a headache or was tired and I took over some soothing habit of his. I'd done that in the past.

No. This was simply because I yearned to touch his hair.

And he moaned.

And he moaned my name.

Without realizing what I'd done, I mindlessly carved our initials into the tree. EC over JW. When I saw my graffiti, I dropped my knife to the ground and grabbed Jasper's sketchbook and bag along with my own and headed toward the river.

The last thing I needed was for him to see the tree and what I'd carved. I'm surprised I hadn't drawn a heart around it and a plus sign between our initials considering how out of it I'd been. I mentally flagellated myself as I joined Jasper.

He was acting like he always did. Nothing was out of sort, so I suggested we head back into the house for food.

Jasper cleared his throat bringing me back to reality and to our twenty-two- and twenty-three-year-old selves.

He reached out and traced the letters. First my initials. Then his.

"When did you do this?" he asked with his eyes on the tree as he traced the letters again and again.

I tried to read his face as I answered. "The day before I left for Italy."

He studied them for a few minutes before bringing two fingers to his lips to kiss. I watched as he then traced the E with reverence. When he turned to look at me, his eyes were filled with unshed tears.

I had to say something.

"I carved them without even realizing it and then lured you back to the house with the promise of ice cream so you wouldn't see. That was the day I ruined my Swiss Army knife, too. I forgot I even did this until just now."

"May I borrow your dad's knife?" he asked with outstretched fingers.

"Sure. What are you going to do?" I asked as I felt my brows lower.

"Just watch," he said as he started to peel more bark away and then pulled the reamer out of the knife to carve.

Concentration was written over his features as he drew a large circle, giving the letters at least three inches of border. I watched then as he started to carve curving lines that doubled back and encased our initials. Drawing labyrinths was now second nature to him, and I saw the peace and serenity smooth out the lines of focus on his face as he neared the center.

"What do you want to add?" he asked with a smile as he finished his elaborate design and handed me the knife.

"Uh…" I so eloquently said. "Give me a minute." Tracing his labyrinth and the letters, I searched for inspiration and soon found it.

Inside the maze and interacting with the initials, I drew Jasper's curls—the inspiration for me to carve into the tree in the first place.

We stood back and looked at the tree as I folded the tools back into the knife. Jasper turned to me, and I could feel him curiously studying my face.

"What is that? Waves?"

"Nah. It's your hair," I admitted as I relayed the events that provoked my original work.

"You really like the curls, huh?" he smirked.

"Yes, Jasper. I think you'd have figured that out by know considering how often I delve into them."

He laughed, and I joined him. Then we both stood there and looked at the tree in silence.

"It's missing something, I think," he finally said.

"Oh? What's that?"

"A date."

"A date?" I questioned, suddenly scrolling through my mental calendar to determine which date we should put.

"Well, yes. But which one, is the question," he stated.

We talked, debating, attempting to see what day we wanted to remember as the start of us. I didn't want to discount what we'd experienced since last September, but he didn't want to remember the months he'd acted so distant. And then there was the break up. And the months of see-sawing.

Then we decided.

May eighth.

It had to be the eighth. That was the day that we both told each other the honest truth and finally let all the barriers down. Sitting in the center of that flowerbed in the backyard under the stars with nearly-spent tulips surrounding us. That was the most perfect moment, and the second our lips touched, everything changed. Even if we did go back and forth on a few things since that time, we'd been slowly working at rebuilding our relationship.

Jasper opened the knife again and carved 5/8 in beautiful numbers.

With the knife back in my pocket, I reached for him and kissed his perfect mouth for more than five minutes, which meant we were nearly twenty minutes behind schedule and might miss the ferry.

I didn't care.

#

Seattle greeted us with rain and a hectic schedule. As we finished up our final projects, Jasper worked at the coffeehouse, and I worked with Alice to help plan not only our art show but also our graduation party that would happen the day following the show.

I'd intended on asking Jasper to move back into my room after we got back, but it seemed either the timing was never right, or when it was, I was distracted by his lips on my mouth or my lips around his cock.

Sharing a room was a big deal to him. I knew it was because he was still not entirely comfortable sleeping in the same bed with me. The nights I did sleep in his bed, he always pulled on a pair of underwear before falling asleep. It was as if he was caging his dick, locking it away so it couldn't assault me while he slept.

I knew my assessment wasn't far off the mark.

Our sex life had taken off again but hadn't become the sole focus of our relationship like it had been last fall. We were talking more this time. Of course, most of that happened to be about work and the show out of necessity, but we took time to talk about us, too.

What seemed to be most therapeutic for Jasper, besides his continuing sessions with Dr. Victor, was the gradual exploration of our sexual relationship. I never pushed him, and if I sensed any sort of hesitation, I pulled back. He eventually gained his confidence again.

I honestly felt that sleeping in the same bed again would help both of us. We both slept so much better when we were together, and I simply craved his touch. I think he ached for mine as well, but he was generally more reserved about it.

Some afternoons before he'd go to work, we'd end up skipping supper in favor of having sex, catching a bite when we were apart instead. I always topped. Jasper loved it when I was in control, especially if I talked dirty to him while fucking his tight ass. There were times that I'd force myself to remain silent until I could tell he was about to blow. Then I'd stop all movement of my hips and whisper in his ear. Once, he even came from my words alone, shooting all over our chests, leaving us both a sticky mess.

I fucking loved to top!

One afternoon Jasper was showering before he had to go to work while I lay recovering in his bed, sheets pushed to the foot of the bed. I wanted to ask him to come back to our room for good when he walked back into his bedroom. He started to talk about going out with Zoë after work and asked if I wanted to join them.

"Nah. You guys haven't been out alone for a long time. You go and have fun. Call me if you need a ride. There is something—"

Jasper's phone rang, and he held a finger up while he answered it. He grew very serious as he sat on his bed and pulled his socks on and buckled his belt. All he said for several minutes was "uh-huh" and "okay".

Then his face split into a wide smile. "How much? Are you serious?" He looked at me with bright eyes that were nearly wild with happiness. "Tomorrow? Uh, sure. Yeah, the afternoon works for me."

I was nearly dying inside wondering what was going on, so I sat up. Thankfully, he got off the phone within moments.

"That was my lawyer. Jessica and Mike want to settle. The phone has been ringing all morning over at their office. I guess their parents are freaked about this getting in the news if it goes to court because of their reputation and all. Well, and because of the nature of the case, you know the newspapers are going to suck that up. Anyway. Wow!"

"Congratulations!" I said as I pulled him to my still-naked body.

"I guess they both come from some major money, so the punitive damages could kill them." As he spoke, his thumb brushed over my nipple, tightening it. He didn't seem to be aware of what he was doing. "Jessica's dad is some big-wig and comes from old money. Mike's family just wants to pay me off, but Jessica's parents are actually beside themselves. They're mortified that she would injure anyone, let alone a gay guy. Seems her little brother's gay. Perhaps they feel they owe this to the gay community as well as me. So… Wow. I don't even know what to think!"

"Did they mention a dollar amount?" I asked, hoping it would be enough to pay off all his debt.

He just nodded.

"Well?"

"Combined … two million dollars," he said as he stared at the knobs on his dresser drawer. "Two million dollars," he repeated, his voice rising a bit. "My God, Edward. They want to pay me two million fucking dollars to not take them to court to get … I don't even know how much. Shit!" His voice was raised, and he gesticulated with nearly every word. There was nothing he could do to keep the smile off his face.

"So, you're pleased then?" I asked cautiously.

"Pleased? Pleased? Uhh, duh!" he joked as he burst into laughter that I quickly joined. "This could be done and over with. I could pay off all my debt and invest the rest."

Turning back toward me, he pushed me back down on the mattress and covered my mouth with his, but he didn't stop there. He kissed down my chest, licking and sucking my nipples, down my stomach, and then engulfed my dick, sucking hard and bringing it to a full erection in seconds. Within minutes, he had sucked me off.

"Wow! Shouldn't that have been the other way around?" I asked with a chuckle as he gave my cock a few long, languid licks.

"Are you kidding me? You were the one who talked me into going to a lawyer. _You _deserved that!" His eyes shifted to his clock. "Shit. I gotta go. Look at the time."

"Don't forget to call me if you and Zoë need a ride tonight, okay?"

"Okay. Love you. Bye." He gave me a quick kiss on mouth and ran out the door.

Again, a missed opportunity to talk about moving into our room. It was getting ridiculous, so I decided to just let it be and concentrate on other things. There was a lot to think about, and the time would come when it was right. I just needed to be patient.

#

"Uh-huh? And you didn't have any problems getting on the ferry? Good. If you have any questions along the way, just call me. But make sure you use your Bluetooth." His voice rose slightly. "You brought it along, right? Mom, I'm serious. Let's make sure it works. Yes, right now!" Jasper laughed sardonically into his cell phone as he did everything in his power to help his mother arrive in Seattle in one piece.

He'd been worried since the moment she called to say she was getting in the car that morning. When I tried to go down on him in the kitchen while he was leaning against the counter sipping coffee, his dick didn't respond. At all! He was simply too stressed.

I'd been able to distract him with work though.

Of course it would end up being work, I thought, and then started to chuckle. Jasper quickly turned to me and gave me a steely glare.

"What? Wait! I'm not laughing at you, love. I was thinking about something. Honest," I said with both palms facing him. He gave me a curt nod and returned to his conversation. He was wound tighter than a drum. After several more minutes, he hung up and let out an exasperated sigh.

"My God! I bought her the Bluetooth for a reason," he ranted. "We even drove to her house to show her how to use the damn thing, and then she dismisses it as some 'silly piece of technology that only confuses me.' I want her to be able to get in touch with me if she needs me, and she doesn't need to be getting herself killed because she was too stubborn to learn how to use the blame thing!"

"Gentlemen, is everything all right?" Nigel, the museum liaison, asked in a worried voice. "Can I help in any way?"

"No, but thanks," I said as I encircled Jasper in my arms and pulled him to my chest. I rested my chin on his shoulder and felt his breathing calm as his back rose and fell against me. "His mom is on her way to Seattle and has never driven in a city before. I think we just need a few minutes more before we'll be ready. Thanks." I watched as Nigel retreated with a nod before I returned my attention to Jasper. Pivoting to face him, I saw he was already more relaxed. At least his breaths were more fluid.

Threading my fingers through the curls at the base of his neck, I moved my mouth close to his ear and spoke in a low voice. "I know you're worried about your mom. You're a great son, and she knows you love her. She's going to make it here safely." I smoothed a hand down his back in long, fluid strokes, hoping the repetitive motion would ease the tension away from his shoulders. "She's had plenty of practice driving, and she shouldn't run into very much traffic at all, considering it's Sunday. You planned this very well, and you've done everything you can at this point."

Jasper's arms slipped around my waist, and he lifted his head to look at me. The worry on his forehead had dimmed some but not enough. So I tried to iron away the remaining stress with the pad of my thumb.

"I'm just scared," he admitted.

"I know, love. And that's okay." Pressing my lips to his for just a moment, I continued allowing our lips to brush against each other as I spoke. "I would be worried if my mother hadn't ever driven in the city either. But she'll call us if she needs us. She only has to merge onto I-5, and it's a really straight forward on-ramp." I traced his cheekbones with my thumbs and captured his lips with mine, kissing him until he responded. It didn't take long before he let go of the stress and allowed himself to open up to the love I was trying to fill him with. When I heard the heels of Nigel's shoes, I got back to business.

"Now, we just need to make some decisions today about the placement of the walls. So, what were your thoughts?" I asked and saw a shift in his demeanor as he perused the immediate gallery space.

We had less than a week before we opened the doors to our professors, friends, family, and the art community. The day after that was our graduation ceremony. It was going to be a hectic week, but we were both looking forward to it, feeding off the energy and excitement. In fact, that probably heightened Jasper's stress reaction.

Jasper and I knew what we wanted for our show, and with Nigel's experience and knowledge of the gallery and its various lighting schemes, we came to decisions much quicker than either of us anticipated. As we continued to work, I became more excited, envisioning the space more clearly. Jasper relaxed further as we worked, but he still carried worry in his shoulders, and his movements weren't nearly as fluid as normal. Luckily, we were done.

"So we'll see you Wednesday morning to begin the installation. I look forward to working more closely with both of you gentlemen. Good day, Mr. Cullen. Mr. Whitlock." Nigel bid us good-bye after nearly two hours of very productive decision making.

Just as we set foot outside the building and began walking down the wide, expansive stairs, Jasper's phone rang.

"Mom? Good. You're at Rosie's place? Great. We're just finishing up here. Yep. Yep. Okay. Sure. Supper. Love you. Bye."

As he shut his phone, he released a huge sigh, and I saw the remainder of his tension practically drain out of his shoes. His face lit up as he met my gaze, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

"Come on. Let's walk home, babe," he purred before giving my neck a playful bite.

As we walked the several blocks home, we were in constant contact. Whether it was his arm around me or the times he laced his fingers through mine, it was as if he refused to let me go. I knew what that meant for the minute we stepped over the threshold to our house. But I didn't want it to happen in the house where we were still in our separate rooms and only made love on his bed.

It was where we always ended up. It was never a conscious thing on my part, but I'd started to think that it was on his. One early afternoon when I thrust into his denim-covered ass while he cleaned up our lunch dishes, I tried to direct him toward my bedroom, but he quickly diverted me. We ended up falling on the couch before he suggested we move to his bed where we could reach the condoms and lube more easily.

We simply ended up there each and every time.

I wanted us to come together in a more neutral place, and since my room was still obviously too … _something_ for him, I dashed through the house and out the back, able to unlock the studio before he caught up to me.

Sure enough, the door clicked shut, and he pushed me against the wood, attacking my mouth with his hungry lips, frantically removing my tie and unbuttoning my blazer and shirt. As his hands continued to work, he unbuckled his belt and pulled it out of the loops. I slid to the corner and was able to curve my body so that I could ease across the adjoining wall as he grabbed my hair. Just as I felt the solidity of the wall give way to air, I withdrew. The fingers he still had curled around my hair tugged hard, and I moaned at the amazing feel of it. I unbuckled my belt and slowly started to ease my pants down my legs.

Jasper's hands quickly left my hair and traveled south, leaving hot trails of desire over my chest. When he pushed my shirt aside and finally made contact with my anxious skin, I lost grip of my trousers and felt them puddle around my ankles.

"Look at that!" he teased with a quirk of his eyebrow. He wanted my desire to outshine my control.

I turned my head and gave him a level, sidelong glance before sitting on the edge of the daybed and slowly, tortuously slowly, removing my shoes … and my socks … and my suit pants, ensuring that the shoes were lined up perfectly on a stool, the socks were neatly bound together, and the trousers were folded along their perfect creases. With each precision movement I made, I could see the anxiety in Jasper ramp up. He had wanted this to be hurried. But then he slipped up by mocking me.

_And who had the control now?_

I sat on the leather daybed in my underwear … new underwear. I'd just bought them. Jasper's eyes devoured the rich red cotton that hugged my cock and balls, wrapping only half way around my hips before the natural fiber gave way to mesh and elastic.

He dropped to his knees and began worshiping my dick through the fabric, nosing along the underside, kissing the head, massaging the length with his lips. My body immediately started to respond.

His underwear fetish had never wavered, and I was more than willing to feed the obsession.

"Uh uh," I scolded with a wave of my finger and watched as he leaned back on the heels of his leather shoes. He said nothing, relaxing and watching me as I rose to my knees, slowly walking back until I was kneeling in the middle of a sea of dark leather.

Jasper remained still and silent.

I shrugged my shoulders, allowing the already disheveled suit jacket to run down my arms and land on my calves and the squares of upholstery. Rather than leave it there, I picked it up and gave it the same care I gave the rest of my clothes. After setting it in front of me, I did the same thing with my shirt, being extra slow unbuttoning my cuffs.

The only movement from Jasper through all of this was when he finally released his hard cock from his slacks and started stroking himself. I didn't want him to stop. I wanted to watch the dusky head release a bead or two as he squeezed himself. It was fucking hot.

"You like watching me," he said with confidence. "I can see it in your mouth. The way it opens and your tongue peeks out and glances across your teeth. You want to taste me."

He threw his head back, arching, and started to fuck his own hands. I watched in awe. There was no doubt in my mind he was playing me, trying to get me to let go of my restraint so I'd give him the fucking of a lifetime. Jasper loved it hard. He loved it gentle, too. At that very moment, however, he wanted to work out the stress he'd been holding in all week, and I was more than willing to comply.

He certainly knew how to play me to get what he wanted!

I loved the game he was playing, too, but I wanted the ball in my court.

I cleared my throat in a polite manner and waited for him to look up. "Excuse me, Jasper. I don't mean to interrupt your little self-indulgence here, but I was wondering if you'd be willing to place my jacket and shirt with my other articles of clothing for safe keeping?" How I got through that with a straight face, I'll never know.

After heedlessly tucking himself into his pants, he leaned over and picked up my clothes, setting them in a nice pile. He did, however, take the time to hang my coat over his desk chair so it wouldn't end up wrinkled. His jacket followed as did every other article of clothing he had except for his underwear, the cage protecting me from his cock. When his back was to me, I walked behind him to give us a little mood music. The moment I hit play, he faced me and requested that we do without music.

"Why? Not a fan of my selection?" I joked.

"I wanna hear every sound you make. Every. Single. Sound."

"Well, in that case, take that underwear off."

He was still playing because he turned around and bent over as he pulled his boxer briefs down, showing me the most wonderful view of his ass and a glimpse of his heavy balls hanging between his legs. I couldn't help but moan, bringing my bent forefinger up to my mouth to bite it for dramatic effect.

"Nice, love," I sighed in a low tone, brushing the back of my hand across his full ass as I passed beside him on my way back to the daybed. "With as ass like that, believe me, I'm going to be making a lot of sounds. But let's not be too hasty."

"Now why would we wan—" he stopped suddenly, and I knew why. He'd finally seen my underwear from behind as I climbed back to the center of the bed. They were assless, basically a jock but with a tad more material.

Jasper had become a firm bottom in our relationship, rarely venturing anywhere near my ass anymore. It was a subject that he simply didn't want to discuss, so I decided to not _talk _about it. I hadn't agreed to not address it in other ways though. I'd recently stocked up on some … shall we say, very exotic underwear that showed off my assets in all their varied glory. I had hoped that by seeing my naked ass in erotic underwear, he'd become more comfortable reaching for it and playing with it—more than to just press my cock into him harder and deeper, that is. As I unpacked the box that had arrived in the mail, I found I'd gotten more and more daring as I'd shopped online. Jasper had been at work, and I was missing him, as usual, so I opened a bottle of wine that I eventually finished on my own. I shopped for underwear as I got drunk, and the result was that I had skimpy bikinis, jocks, thongs, and even something that appeared to be mostly straps. It took me a few tries to figure out where my dick went in that pair. There was even a pair that I wasn't sure I'd ever be brave enough to wear. I didn't even put those in my underwear drawer, but hid them in a very secure place. Every pair just so happened to feature my ass as the main attraction. All so that Jasper would get more comfortable and maybe even crave to top again.

"Oh," I turned and looked over my shoulder at Jasper, "what? These?" I questioned with nonchalance, slipping my fingers in the elastic and tracing just along the top where they hit my ass. I shrugged. "They looked interesting. Thought I'd give 'em a try. Anyway, where were we? Oh yes. I was watching you." I maneuvered around and sat cross-legged in the center of the bed.

He looked awestruck, mouth agape and eyes large.

"Come over here, Jasper. Let's work all the stress and tension out. I think you need a release, and I intend for it to be a good one." I sat waiting for him to join me.

"Tell me about the underwear, Edward. You look amazing in them. You hardly ever wear jock straps, but you should wear them more often," he said as he sat down, fingering the edges of the material over my stomach and around my thighs. It tickled, and I couldn't help that my muscles jumped and twitched.

"I know you like to see me in fun underwear, but honestly, I miss you touching my ass," I said shyly, _almost_ afraid to see how he'd react.

"Oh…"

"Jasper, all kidding aside, you showed me how great it could really be to bottom. I'm not asking you to fuck me. But please…" I rose to my knees and reached for his hands. He looked between my cock and my eyes as I drew his hands behind me and pressed his palms flat against my ass. "Please touch me. I want to feel your hands on me again. I need to. I ache for you to touch me like you used to."

Jasper's Adam's apple bobbed in an exaggerated swallow, and I could see a tempest brewing behind his blue eyes.

"Do you know what you're asking me to do? What this could potentially mean?" he whispered as he knelt so our noses were brushing. He never removed his hands. His touch remained firm and unmoving.

"I know what you think it could potentially mean, Jasper. I trust you."

Jasper closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. The tension in his body was visible. I had to quickly soothe him.

"You won't hurt me. Your dick isn't some monster that needs to be locked away when we sleep in the same bed. You know how to read me better than you realize."

He shook his head and started to protest, but I stopped him by pressing my lips to his. His eyes remained closed.

"You were drunk that night and in a horrible place emotionally. You weren't yourself. And you didn't hurt me. You know that better now than you did at the time because now you know how it really feels. Right?" I asked and waited for his nod before I continued in a whisper. "It's so much different than what happened to you before. And now you know how good it feels. When I hit that magical place inside of you and you cry out my name, you know how amazing you made me feel every single time you made love to me."

"I do, Edward. I want to give that to you again, but … but I'm not sure." His voice was small and insecure.

Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I brought my lips to his ear to deliver my message.

"I. Trust. You." I breathed in and out several times, hoping to let my words sink in. "Remember our last day in Forks poolside when you begged me to fuck your mouth. I trusted you to tell me if I was going too hard or too deep. You needed that to happen for a few reasons. But one was to show me that you trusted me. Jasper, you have my trust, too. I know the second I say something is too much, you'll stop. I know that! Do you trust me to tell you?" I asked as I kissed behind his ear.

"Yes. I'm sure you'll tell me."

"Then please touch me again," I pleaded into his mouth.

"I really do want that. I want it all … everything you said. I want to give you everything you give me, but please be patient with me. I'm still afraid."

"I'll wait, Jasper. I'm in no rush. Even if I have to wait ten years for you to top again, I will. As long as I have you."

He nodded and swallowed thickly.

Jasper squeezed my ass, and rather than just pulling me closer to him, he lightly traced around the edges of the fabric of my underwear and ghosted over my flesh. I knew I'd missed his gentle touches, but I hadn't realized how eager I was until he traced down my divide. He didn't go far, not nearly as far as I wanted him to, but it was a start.

As if he realized what he'd just done, he quickly switched gears. His tongue dove into my mouth, and he kissed me with such fury and intensity that it literally took my breath away. I could sense the fear rolling off him. I wanted this moment to help relieve his stress not increase it, but when I tried to slow us down, he only became more passionate. Warm hands roamed over my back, fingers gripped my hair and his teeth scraped across my bottom lip as he pulled me tight to his body.

"I love you, Edward. I love you. I love you. I love you. And I want to give you everything." He breathed out hard and intense.

I kissed down his neck, licking and sucking his skin in all the right spots, telling him "I love you" with my mouth. I felt his muscles begin to relax some beneath my palms.

Leaning back, Jasper watched me as he slowly rested his back on the daybed. His eyes begged me to follow, but I stayed still, looking intently at him for a moment.

"Please Edward, I want you on top of me."

Something looked different about him. He looked more … vulnerable, perhaps, and I didn't want him to feel so powerless. In fact, I wanted him to feel like he had utter control, but I'd give him what he asked for. And I'd do it in a way that made him comfortable.

Reaching down to the floor, I picked up Jasper's soft underwear and slipped them over his feet, up his thighs and around his ass. I wanted him to feel secure even as I gave him what he wanted. A second layer of fabric would help him feel just that.

I pressed my body on top of him and moaned the second our chests touched. He wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me closer as he left searing strokes from his palm down my back. All the while our mouths were busy, tongues swirling and teasing and tasting. And it just went on and on like that.

Neither of us hurried.

Neither of us pushed to take it to the next step.

We were both content to kiss. And we poured our feelings into those kisses. I savored them literally from the tips of my toes to the top of my head and deep, so very deep in my heart. I moaned when he did something I loved, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear "every single sound."

My lips were swollen and red, I was sure, when he pulled away nearly thirty minutes later. I whimpered at the loss of his mouth beneath mine, and when I moved in to kiss him again, he smiled and then flipped me onto my back. The smirk I couldn't contain instantly spread into a full smile as I saw the look of pure want in his eyes.

"Can I suck you?" I asked very quietly and was rewarded with his underwear fluttering to the wooden floor and his knees straddling my shoulders. I watched as he held his thick cock at the base, presenting it to me, but I couldn't reach for him, my hands basically pinned to my sides by his legs. I didn't need hands though. Jasper reached for the leather bolster and arranged it under my neck and shoulders so I was no longer lying completely flat.

"You want a taste, don't you?" he teased, bringing his cock just out of reach of my mouth. I tired to catch him with my tongue to no avail, so I simply looked into his stormy blue eyes and hoped he'd see how much I wanted him. "Mmm, you want it bad. Your eyes are so damn green right now, Edward." Rather than pulling away again as I expected him to do, he touched the tip of his dick to my mouth, spreading a silky drop across my bottom lip, from one corner to the other, and rubbing it around. I didn't open, even though I wanted to, but pursed my lips together to give the head of his cock a little nest to rub into. My lips massaged him and filled with more of the precious fluid his body was offering. The way he looked down at me as he rubbed his dick against my lips was almost more than I could manage without practically swallowing him whole. But this was too good to rush.

He pulled his dick back, and I greedily licked my lips, _finally_ tasting him. I moaned. I couldn't fucking help it, and I didn't fucking care. A light sparkled in his eye as he smirked at my wanton noise, and the next thing I knew, he was slapping the head of his cock against my once-again puckered lips. That caused his eyes to roll back into his head, and I watched him repeat the movement a few more times before I opened my mouth and fluttered my tongue on his sensitive frenulum.

"Again," he begged as he dick slapped me, and I finally opened again. Suddenly, he jerked up, putting more weight on his knees than on my chest. My eyes shot to his cock and quickly traveled to his balls and finally to that perfect pucker that I so loved to lick and fuck. He panted above me, apparently turned on by what he'd just done to my mouth, but I scooted underneath him and started to lick the subtle swell behind his balls. I pressed my tongue hard against it, and my gaze was drawn to his cock, which was throbbing and jerking about as I licked.

"Hang on, Edward. Let me turn around." And I watched as he did just that, his balls settling on my chin so my mouth was right back where it had been a moment ago. Then, I felt him push my underwear down, and he wrapped his perfect lips around the head of my dick and started to suck. But he didn't just suck. No. He teased and licked and used his mouth to do everything to bring me near the edge. And then he'd slow down. Way down. But I was fine with that because by that time, I already had my tongue buried a few inches in his sweet, tasty ass.

_Candy ass. That's what I should call—_

My thoughts were disrupted by his lips and tongue massaging my balls, and then I felt it. His hands were moving my underwear further down and off my legs and when they returned, they were on my ass.

And they weren't still.

They were moving.

Squeezing me.

And ever so slowly moving closer and closer to my sensitive crack.

I kept licking and sucking his excitable skin and tried to focus all my attention on giving him an amazing rim job rather than thinking about the fact that he was so close to connecting right where I ached for him to touch. Grabbing his cheeks, I spread them apart and looked at the perfectly pink rosebud in front of me before kissing it and delicately tracing it with the tip of my tongue. His responsive skin trembled against my tongue, and I groaned at the sensation. I loved his ass in my mouth. So I kissed it. And I licked it. And I bit those full cheeks.

I felt his wet finger slide between my ass and massage my hole. I gasped and panted as I continued to lick him. He never attempted to enter me, content to explore my over-aware flesh. As much as I wanted to, I didn't push my hips against him. I didn't arch my back. I didn't even fucking wriggle. I simply let him explore at his pace for as long as he wanted.

Then his finger was gone.

And he totally sucked me off and swallowed my come and lapped at my cock for several minutes after I had last shuddered.

Next, Jasper did one of the most erotic things I'd seen in a very long time. He hovered above me on all fours and jutted his ass into the air. That brought his cock right to my lips, and I engulfed it … and he fucked my face, burying his musky scented balls in my nose again and again. I had to hold his balls up eventually so I could breath through my nose, but I played with them and quickly brought him to his climax.

Even after we both came, we weren't through making love. He sat on my face again, and my tongue slid back home into that sweet cavern. He rocked against my face, fucking my tongue, and I brought my hands around his thighs, allowing just the fine hair to tickle my palms.

"Geez, Edward. You're going to be the death of me," he managed to get out between gasping breaths. But his ass continued to move against my mouth.

I pulled back just enough to tell him to turn around. Not that I'd be able to see much of his face, but I wanted to see the few glimpses that were possible.

When he straddled my head, I got a huge smile from him.

When I dove back between his cheeks, his fingers grabbed my hair.

When I pushed past his first ring of muscle he moaned my name.

Reaching down, I grabbed myself, hard again and throbbing simply from having him sitting on my face. I stroked and rocked my hips so that I fucked my own hand.

Jasper sat up on his knees and curled his shoulders slightly as he took his cock in both hands. I could see him now … could see every line on his beautiful face and the disorderly curls that obscured the rest of the world as he gazed down at me through his lusty haze. I could see that the normally wispy curls at his temple were darkened and tamed with his sweat. I could see his teeth bite into his swollen pink bottom lip as he ran his hands over his sensitive cock.

He looked me right in the eyes as I stroked myself.

We said nothing with words.

But we watched each other.

And we brought ourselves pleasure.

He was the first to lose his rhythm. I watched as a muscle in his cheek twitched a time or two, his mouth opened and closed, and his shoulders drew closer together.

And then he came all over my neck, and he painted my cheeks and chin and forehead.

My hips lifted off the daybed with a ripping sound at my thrust as I shot so forcefully that I saw Jasper flex his back when my come hit his skin. After my body calmed, I brought my hands to his back and found that I'd sprayed from the middle of his shoulder blades down to his ass and across my stomach. He darted his tongue out and licked my neck and face clean before rolling to the daybed on his stomach. I wiped up the beautiful mess I'd made all over him and then straddled his hips so I could massage his back.

I no longer felt stress in his muscles, and the soft snores that escaped his perfect lips after a few minutes cinched it for me. I lay down and watched him sleep, adjusting next to him whenever he'd pull me close or tangled his legs with mine.

He slept curled beside me completely naked for several hours, whether he was the little spoon or the big spoon.

And his dick didn't attack me once.

#

"To creativity, hard work, inspiration, and above all else, brave honesty. Cheers." Dr. Banner raised his glass to Jasper and me, gently touching the crystal to each of ours before moving around the gathered group of very important people, our friends, and nearly all of our family.

"Cheers!" and "Here, here!" were heard all around. I rested my eyes on each and every person there. They had all given so much support to both of us. I had to speak.

"Thank you all for coming and for offering your love and encouragement throughout all these years. Honestly, this is your show as much as it is ours because, without you, we would have never reached this far or felt so secure in who we are so that we could be this open. Thanks." I was such a dork.

"Thanks, everyone. I'll leave it at that because Edward is just a little better at words than me. Go enjoy," Jasper prodded. "And drink up." Everyone laughed and dissipated throughout the room, getting lost in various pieces but each being drawn to different ones.

"I've never seen a senior show with this much raw emotion and naked admission shown in each piece," Dr. Banner shared as he pulled us away to a secluded corner. "Both of you have the potential to make this your living. Your sole living." He made sure to look at each of us as he spoke and he was very sincere. "You're both gifted and inspired. Beyond that, you're extremely driven and not afraid to go outside your comfort zone. One thing I want you men to think about is putting your talents together. Go and work for someone to get your experience, but continue working together. You fill each other in very nicely." Dr. Banner gave us each a handshake before saying, "It's been a pleasure working with you. Now, go and mingle with these guests. I need to find your mother, Edward. It's not everyday that I get to bump shoulders with the Seattle art elite at a student show.

Jasper rested his arm across my shoulder and took a slow sip of his champagne. "How much longer until we open the door to our adoring masses?" he joked with a smirk.

"Just about two minutes, and I certainly don't think we're going to be entertaining masses this evening. Are you nervous?" I asked, feeling a slight stirring in my belly. I dismissed it as excitement.

"Nope. If there's one thing I know, it's my own art. I know what inspired me and what I wanted to say with my pieces." He placed his lips on my temple, and I could feel his breath wash across my skin as he continued in a whisper. "This is our show, Edward. _Ours._ And who knows what today will bring." Jasper brought his mouth to me and ran his tongue along mine. I didn't care that there was a small gathering; I kissed him as if we were alone.

I heard Alice's shutter going off and knew that she was taking photos of us kissing. One of these days, I was going to break that damn thing.

"Mr. Cullen. Mr. Whitlock," Nigel, the liaison, interrupted before he apologized, having just realized he disturbed our kiss.

"No problem," I said.

"If you're ready, we can let your guests in."

"Sure," Jasper said with a huge smile on his face.

Much to our surprise, the small gallery filled rather quickly. My mother had pulled some strings for us, getting us an unheard of space for a senior show at the Seattle Asian Art Museum. It truly helped to know people. While Jasper and I had initially thought we should avoid using my mother's connections, we decided that if we had the network, we may as well use it.

Jasper greeted his soon-to-be boss as did I, but I quickly left them so Jasper could show her his pieces and answer any questions she might have. I headed to the front of the room where guests continued arriving.

Hanging from the ceiling was very large silkscreen. There was no frame around it, only dowels at the top and bottom that helped it hang just so. It hit the floor and blocked off the direct view of the room. You could see through where the image had been burned into the emulsion by light, and according to my mother, "It enticed you into the space."

I guess we had a good idea.

We always came up with our best ideas when we worked together, and this one worked

The silkscreen was light blue from the emulsion used and was lit from behind to help reveal the scene. A dark wall in the background aided in bringing out the image as well. You could see glimpses of our other works where the image was burned into the screen. At the top, was the word Confessions and down on a thick border at the bottom were our names. The rest of the silkscreen was Jasper's typographical sketch from the leather journal that he bought: the tree and the river and the tree house. We decided to take out some of the more personal words. But we kept everything that was very important to us and that we felt an audience would appreciate. Jasper insisted on including his river apology to me in full. I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't budge.

I stood reading Jasper's words when I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see my parents' friend, Aro.

"Edward. It's so good to see you," he squeezed my shoulder and brought me in for a hug, kissing me on both cheeks as he pulled away.

"Aro. I'm glad you could make it. I need to introduce you to Jasper, my partner."

"All in good time, my dear boy. All in good time. First, I want to talk to you." He was interrupted by a server who held a tray of champagne flutes, and he took a sip before continuing. "Let's start here. Please tell me about this beautiful piece," he gestured toward the silk screen.

I was at a loss as I saw some of my additions to the piece … my confession.

_I thought I knew what was right, and I never allowed you to fail. I didn't wait for you to fall, so I never had the chance to truly help you up._

"Well, this is actually inspired by an apology that Jasper created for me. We've modified it some. For instance, we took out some of the intensely person statements, but we've left in much of the original intent. We wanted our guests to enter, see this, and maybe have the experience of letting go of some of their own baggage," I explained.

"Ah, you want us to open our minds, Edward. Some people will never open their minds, but I believe you've taken some of the weight off my back," he joked as we stood there and continued to look.

_The door was slammed on your face again and again. You only wanted to speak, to explain, but I was stubborn. So were you. Thank you for your persistence. Thank you for speaking to me in the only way I was willing to listen. Thank you for helping me grow._

I sighed as I read my words, and Aro looked me over, squeezing my shoulder knowingly. "Show me more, Sir Edward."

Without delay, we walked past the silk screen and into the main gallery. I followed Aro's path and explained pieces as he asked questions, leaving him to look on his own from time to time. Occasionally, I'd be pulled away by another guest to discuss a piece, but he'd always demand my attention again. Not that I minded at all.

Throughout all of this, though, I kept my attention on Jasper, even while it was often divided. We'd make eye contact, and I'd watch as his beautiful face brightened with his wide smile. I couldn't help but return my own. After the seventh or eighth time this happened, Aro rested his fingertips on the back of my hand and leaned in to me.

"Edward, I can see how much you love that man over there. Would you please introduce me to him? I want to see if he's worthy of your heart."

I smirked at him and raised a brow before he wrapped his fingers around my hand and followed me toward Jasper. As soon as we got there, he dropped my hand, and I felt Jasper's arm slide around my waist. I couldn't help but drift into his side.

"Aro, I'd like for you to meet Jasper. Jasper, this is Aro. You've both heard a great deal about each other, I'm sure, whether through my parents or me. I'm glad you finally get to meet. In fact, I'll give you a few moments to talk."

After a quick handshake and a few words, Jasper pulled me back to him and buried his nose in my hair. He spoke low so I could hear him, and I felt his lips as the moved against my skin. "You are absolutely gorgeous tonight. I can't wait until we're alone so I can kiss you how I really want."

Aro laughed as he obviously overheard what Jasper had said. "Jasper, darling, kiss your man how you want to right here and right now. It's not like your guests think you boys are straight after seeing this homoerotic display of yours," he said gesturing with his hand and a turn of his wrist at our art hanging on the walls.

Jasper threaded his fingers in the back of my hair and rested his forehead against mine. "You know, Aro is right," he breathed against my lips before his captured my own. He opened his mouth, and I eagerly devoured his tongue. My eyes were shut with the intensity of the kiss, and as his hands roamed by back and even slid over my ass for a few seconds, I relaxed into him. The passion leveled out as his fingers were buried back in my hair. He placed a few chaste pecks on my lips before I opened my eyes. "I love you, Edward."

"I love you," I said with a smile. I then stepped back, and as I did so, a tall man with a severe haircut came into focus over Jasper's shoulder. It was Jack, and he'd seen his son kissing me with intense ardor. But his face didn't show true anger. There was something there I couldn't discern even though I could see so much of Jasper on his brow. No matter what it was, I wanted to get Jasper involved with Aro so he'd be distracted.

"Aro, I'll give you a few moments with Jasper to get to know him better and to allow him to discuss his work with you. As you can see," I gestured around the space behind me, "Jasper is a huge fan of typography and truly excels at it."

Aro led Jasper toward a piece that caught his eye, and I watched as they walked away, releasing a big sigh when I looked back over and saw that Jack had turned his attention to a piece of Jasper's. I saw the muscles in Jack's back tense as he saw Jasper's representation of his scarred back. This had been a healing piece for Jasper, one that he worked on to get past not only the physical wounds Jessica had given him but also the pain experienced when he felt he was never going to please his father.

Quietly, I walked up beside Jack and asked him what he saw. He quickly turned his head to me and furrowed his brow before forcing himself to relax.

"Thanks for inviting me, Edward. I'm sure it wasn't easy for you boys to come to that decision, but I wouldn't have wanted to miss this."

I gave a deep nod and momentarily closed my eyes in understanding. I wondered if he would even speak to Jasper.

"So tell me Jack; when you look at this piece of Jasper's, what do you see?" I asked, truly trying to engage him and to see if he had any understanding of his son's art.

He paused a few minutes and really studied it before he pointed to the words that were beautifully printed across the canvas. "That's you; isn't it?"

I read the words aloud so he'd truly hear them. "_All you have ever seen is beauty._ Jack, your son is a beautiful man inside and out. He's generous and kind and strong and the best friend I could ever have."

Jack turned to me and stared for a moment, looking into my eyes as if he were trying to read me before he nodded.

"_You never shied away._ After he was injured at Halloween, he could no longer work. When he finally healed and got a job modeling, he was turned away at the site because of his scars. But that message is about more than that." I paused and waited, trying to give him a chance to process what I told him.

"You accept him for who he is." We both remained silent for a few minutes before he said, "Thank you for being his friend and helping him … come to terms with … all these realizations he's had this last year."

I was stunned but tried to camouflage my reaction with a placid face.

"Jack, Jasper is one of the strongest people I know. He knows how to take care of himself. He's self-reliant and honest. I don't know if you know this, but Jasper's been hired by one of the most prestigious design firms on the west coast. He's a very talented man." I let it marinate before I continued.

Jack remained silent, and I waited before I spoke the words that I knew would be hardest for him to swallow.

"_Your mouth is the only medicine I will ever need._" I stopped there, not giving him any more information.

Jack waited a moment and then turned to me. "You have to give me some slack here, Edward. I'm already having a hard enough time knowing my only son is sucking your dick. I've lost my wife because I'm a fucking bastard. So please, just give me a bit of a chance to find my footing. Please explain it to me so I can understand my son better." He looked like he was in genuine pain as he spoke, so I gave him a break.

"Look at the image underneath the words, Jack," I instructed, positive that he wasn't ready for all the symbolism.

I saw his gaze scamper across the image in a seemingly haphazard manner, but I knew Jasper's scars like the back of my hand. He looked at every single one.

"You made him feel like he was healing," he said in almost a question.

"I guess in a way I did. Would you like to know how?" I asked, fully expecting a fervent "no" but received a quiet "yes" in return, much to my surprise.

I turned my body to fully face him, looking him directly in the eye. He was shorter than me, and even though I'm sure my height did nothing to intimidate him, it certainly emboldened me and gave me the courage to say what I wanted in the way that it was meant to be said.

"The night he was turned away on a job by a hateful man, I kissed every single scar on his back, and I did the same thing every night there after … until we had a huge misunderstanding," I admitted.

"Do you still kiss his wounds?" he asked, practically knocking me off my feet.

I looked in Jack's torrential eyes and saw so much of Jasper's expression and fear mirrored back.

"No, Jack. Since we've made amends, I've touched his scars. I've studied his scars." Fuck, I've even dreamed of his scars, but I hadn't kissed them. "But we have the future for that," I finished, not allowing him to add to the guilt I was already feeling over not re-instituting that ritual.

I started to walk away when Jack grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.

"He needs you, Edward. I don't truly understand it, but I saw the way he looked at you earlier and how he kissed you. I don't get it, and I don't like it, but this isn't about me. It's about him."

Closing my eyes, I nodded and took a moment to consider his words. When I opened them and turned to look at Jack, he was gone. I couldn't find him anywhere. As I scanned the room, turning left and right, I felt a steadying hand in the small of my back.

"Edward," Elise said in a strong voice. "Jack left."

"Oh," I said dumbly. "I was just trying to get him to see that Jasper is a great man."

"I know, Edward. I don't think that's why he left. We spoke prior to coming, and he hadn't planned on staying long. Forty minutes was longer than I ever expected him to stay. I think Jasper saw him earlier, but I'm not sure they ever spoke," she worried.

"I don't know. I didn't see them together, but I've been quite distracted," I admitted.

"As you should have been. Now," she changed her tone to a more pleasing one that had a lilt of curiosity in it. "Please tell me about this beautiful painting over here. I believe your inspiration was my son." And she smirked.

"It certainly was," I admitted as I led her to a large canvas. "Actually, it was the sunlight coming through the window at the campus studio that lit up his hair and allowed me to see more than I had before. All these curving shapes came out, and I wanted to see if I could represent Jasper with only curves. He's masculine, and his body is full of long lines and sharp angles, so I saw it as a real challenge to take the arcs echoed in his hair and use those as my only shape," I finished.

"Hmmm." She paused and looked at the canvas. "But the way you varied the size of the curves … it reminds me of pointillism."

I smiled at her, pleased that she had some knowledge of art and that she could articulate it so easily.

"We weren't talking at the time," I admitted quietly. "He'd come to the studio and seemed to just ooze confidence. I didn't understand how he could be so happy while I was so miserable. Of course, he wasn't happy, but he was making the best of his situation. But I didn't know that at the time. The way the sun poured through that window only added to that sense of ease, and it drew my eye. I was literally unable to look away from him. He was gorgeous," I admitted and then quickly wondered if I should have held my tongue. Elise's wide smile let me know that it was perfectly acceptable to admit such things to her. "That was one of those moments of inspiration that artists dream about. I couldn't have resisted the image if I'd wanted to."

"You know," she quirked a smile at me, "the way you look when you talk about Jasper is the same way he looks when he talks about you. I'm glad you found each other back in high school, but I'm even happier about what's happened in the last year. I honestly don't think I've seen him more relaxed and content than he is now. I've seen how he reaches for you and how it affects him. I think you both have found your soul mates."

I pulled her in for a hug, mostly to keep my voice from cracking like a teenager's. When I felt my emotions settle, I said, "Thank you, Elise. That really means a lot coming from you. No one knows a son quite like his mother."

"And speaking of mothers, I see that yours would like a moment of your time," she nodded in the direction of my mom before departing.

The rest of the evening I played the happy host, chatting animatedly, partaking in spur of the moment toasts, and answering tough questions. I spoke to a few potential employers and hoped that my work would fill in all the missing pieces. One of those potential employers kept going back to one of the pieces I included of my comic, _Nathaniel __&__ Aiden_. It was a simple four-panel strip that every gay man I showed had laughed at knowingly. I didn't see this man laugh, but I didn't really expect him to do so in this setting. My hopes were not directed toward finding a job that evening. I was there to finish my education.

And finish it I did.

After Jasper and I finally said good-bye to the last guest at the gallery and made arrangements with Nigel for picking up our art the following week, we headed home exhausted and happy.

Walking in the front door, we both took our shoes off, and I decided at that moment to take a chance. Grasping his long fingers in my hand, I led him into my … our bedroom. He readily followed and didn't once hesitate.

I sat with him on the end of the bed, facing him before I kissed him in privacy for what seemed like the first time that day. We both ended up sighing into the kiss and then pulled back laughing at our synchronicity.

"Let me get something, love. Stay right here." I walked to my dresser to get what I needed before joining him on the foot of bed.

I reached for the hinged jewelry box I brought with me and opened the lid.

"I should have done this a long time ago, and I regret not doing so." Reaching in the box, I pulled out his cuff and placed it around his naked right wrist and spoke. "I want you to wear this again. If you'd like. But for some reason, I feel like this means so much more than it originally did, and I'm not sure that's a good thing."

Jasper looked at me as I rubbed my thumb over the embossed leather.

"I want us to live together again. Not as roommates, not as boyfriends with separate rooms. I want us to be full partners again. I—" Swallowing a lump away so I could speak again, I paused. His left hand reached for my forearm, and he tried to relax me with is touch. "This was a simple leather cuff until I took it away from you. I'm sorry I ever did that. It should've never happened." Slowly, I turned his wrist over to reveal the buckles. "Will you move in to our room again?" I waited, hands still.

"Yes," Jasper said through an emotion-laden voice.

I looked down at his wrist and slowly back up to his eyes before clarifying, "So you'll move back into our room again?" I had to make sure.

He nodded and swallowed thickly.

I immediately started to buckle his cuff.

Jasper reached inside the box for my cuff and buckled it around my left wrist.

"Edward, don't ever forget you're the center of my world."

"Ah fuck, no you don't! You're getting all romantic on me, and you know how that affects my libido," I said as I pushed him onto his back and attacked his mouth.

* * *

**Edit: 3/7/2012**


	35. Entangled

**Entangled**

"Ah, the labyrinth. It's such a wonderful exercise to indulge one's self in." Elizabeth Masen was walking around the gallery, looking at various pieces of mine and noticing that some of them were now signed with a small labyrinth in the corner alongside my initials or signature. It wasn't something I did intentionally. It just happened one day, and I kept it up.

"They're very therapeutic," I offered.

"Yes, they certainly are." She stopped and turned to me. "Your show is a success in my estimation. You and Edward have very different styles, but they blend together so well, adding to the overall meaning of your entire show."

"Thank you, Elizabeth. That means a great deal coming from you."

"I'll let you get back to your other guests. I'll see you at work next week. Congratulations, Jasper. And please give my regards to Edward as well. I don't think I'll have time to talk with him before I go. Good night," she finished with a squeeze of my hand.

I bid her farewell and found a second glass of champagne. Several people approached me, asking about pieces, my plans for the future, and the inspiration for the theme of our show. Our friend Pete brought his girlfriend, Zoë and Xander showed up, and I even spoke with Riley and Paul. Carlisle and I spoke about many of my pieces. He asked me things that made me dig deeper because he knew me so much better than the others, even Zoë. He knew my history.

Every so often, I'd find my gaze drifting over to Edward, who was attending to Aro. I recognized him immediately from photos at the Cullen house. His thick, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and his bright blue eyes were unmistakable. Occasionally, Edward would be pulled away, but Aro always found him again. He looked at Edward as if he were a son or a favorite nephew, easily pulling him into playful hugs. I knew how much Edward looked up to him, and it was nice to see the relationship I'd only heard about in action. Aro truly was a good mentor to Edward.

My mother addressed me in front of a series of words that were screen printed on a very large slip of fabric. "I love the colors," she stated simply. There were multiple tones and shades of blues and greens that helped create a relaxing harmony. Well, that was my intention, at least. All the words, in various fonts, were soothing to me. "When did you create this?" Knowing what she knew about the last year, that seemed to be of importance to her.

"It was done over several months actually. In a sense, I started it even before I came out to Edward." I thought back to the night when I sat in my bed and began to consider how he made me feel. Reaching for a spiral bound notebook, I just wrote without thinking. "I didn't know what was happening to me at the time. When I look back now, I wonder how I could've been so naive? But I was, and I was worried. Late one night, I just started to write words to get them out of my head. I didn't want to think about them anymore or the feelings I was having for Edward.

"Obviously, it didn't work. I ended up going back to that notebook and adding more. After I moved back in with him this spring, I unpacked a box and found it. The words meant something completely different to me than they had before. I added more to help … rounded it out and made it more relevant," I shared.

Mom took my hand in hers and held it while she tried to make out all the overlapping words. I looked over my shoulder for a moment and found Edward talking to Aro, once again. He didn't see me.

"More than anything, I get a sense of security when I read these words. Why is it untitled?" she wondered as she read the placard.

"I think everyone will come away with a different feeling, and I didn't want to impose one upon them. It's that simple," I said.

While she continued to study the print, I felt drawn back to Edward and found him looking at me again. Clumsily, I took a sip of my champagne and a few drops spilled down my chin, thankfully avoiding my suit. Edward laughed at my mishap, and I smiled at him, catching the drips on my finger. I had no napkin so I did what came naturally. I sucked my fingertip into my mouth and licked the champagne away. Edward's smile faltered, and he bit his bottom lip.

"Jasper, I must speak to Esme," my mom said, effectively pulling my attention away from my lover who was obviously feeling as sexually charged as I was. "I'm sure I'll have more questions later, but I don't want to monopolize your time. I'm so proud of you, honey." With a quick hug she was gone, and I was looking back at Edward, who was talking with someone I didn't know.

I walked around the room, trying to appreciate the pieces for myself. It was likely that our art would never be hung and lit in a space as accommodating as this again, and I wanted to soak it in if that was even possible.

The room was not large, but the way Nigel, the museum liaison, had set it up, made it feel more grandiose. Looking to the ceiling, I saw the lighting and followed a particularly bright beam down to a wall I had yet to see that evening.

It was a piece Edward started to paint not long after I was injured. As I stood in front of the large canvas, I studied the image of Edward's bloody hands painted primarily in Cadmium Deep Red and Burnt Umber. When he started to paint, he hid his work from me, fearful it would bring back memories I was trying to work through. In the end though, the image seemed to torment him. He needed my support to complete it, he told me. He painted it to heal. I understood because I'd certainly used my creativity to work through issues as well, even if I didn't realize it at the time. It wasn't a piece he worked on very often because it drained him emotionally, and he would need time to recover. He was not quite done with it when we broke up. It was at that moment that I wondered how he completed it without coming undone.

Guilt over my misdeeds drew my eyes down to the champagne flute cradled in my fingers, and I watched as the thin lines of bubbles made their slow journey to the top of the glass. When I looked back at his painting, I saw where the blood from my wound had covered him, falling down Edward's arms in small rivulets. Ever since that day, the site of any large amount of blood sent him into a panic attack. That's what happened Valentine's night when he cut himself trying to clean up the broken vase he'd thrown against the wall.

As I studied the image, trying to pull myself away from the memories of my transgressions, I noticed something I hadn't seen before. There were words under a layer of paint that were observable only because of the intense lights in the gallery.

I stepped close to the canvas, smelling the residual scent of oil paint. In a narrow script so unlike Edward's but very much like my own, I saw words of anxiety and fear practically hidden by the red paint. It was as if those feelings were running through his veins. They spoke of loss, the worry that he would lose me, that he wouldn't know how to go on without me.

I felt a drop land on my hand before I realized I had shed tears. This was one piece that Edward had not been able to describe to me. He'd refused to talk about much from that day beyond how the blood poured from me. His focus after I was injured was on my recovery, and his fears were buried, aside from the blood. That was all he was willing to share … until now.

Taking a deep breath, I looked up to the ceiling in hopes of blinking back my tears when I felt a tiny hand on my shoulder. Alice was standing beside me giving me a knowing look.

"I took photos of him holding your hand the day after you got hurt. In fact, I think my flash woke you up," she admitted, wrinkling her nose in apology.

I looked closer at the negative space in the painting and realized that Edward's bloody hands were, in fact, holding my very pale hand, barely a ghost image on the canvas … as if he weren't quite able to maintain contact with me. It made the image all the more powerful.

"He refused to wash your blood off his arms. Bella and I worried, thinking he was cracking, but as soon as you woke up and he realized you were going to be okay, he went home and showered." Alice spoke in a soft, soothing voice. "He was a mess until you opened your eyes, Jasper. Just like he was a mess until he finally came to his senses and gave you the opportunity to talk to him this spring. I don't know how to describe what you guys have, but it's strong. It's something where taking risks and allowing yourself to feel vulnerable is worth it."

"What has Edward said to you?" I asked skeptically, suddenly afraid he was telling her about our sex life. I'd begun to worry that I wasn't able to give Edward everything he wanted sexually, but I just wasn't ready yet.

"Nothing. I just sense your reluctance about something. I have no idea what it is, but it feels like you're holding back. Now, isn't the time to be holding back, Jasper. No matter how secure Edward seems right now, his greatest fear has always been losing you."

I swallowed hard and had to look away.

"Jasper, he's stronger than he was before. I think we all can see that because he's the old Edward again. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah. He's not doing things just because he thinks I want to. He's speaking his mind and telling me what he needs." I nodded as I spoke, knowing full well that this was a big change.

"It's not until you're willing to give all of yourself to someone that you can feel everything they have to offer. Just something to think about," she finished with a smile before she stood on her toes and kissed my cheek.

Looking up, I once again caught Edward's eye, but this time it appeared as if Aro was encouraging him to come to me. Edward introduced us, and I let it slip how badly I wanted to really kiss Edward. Aro pushed us and soon our lips were meeting in a gentle harmony until the kiss intensified. He slowed the passion with a few pecks, and we exchanged our mutual "I love yous."

Aro led me away from Edward. I was reluctant to go but excited to speak to the man who'd been Edward's role model for years. Honestly, I wanted him to get to know me as well. He took me directly toward a series of photos I'd taken and developed using a dry plate process. My photos were in black and white, and because of the processing, the edges were irregular, fading out in areas and giving the entire series a very soft look … which was what it needed to juxtapose the subject matter.

"You love him. I can tell," Aro spoke as we stopped in front of the series. "I understand you've recently reunited after a falling out?"

I looked down at my shoes for a moment but then met his gaze with what must've been sad, remorseful eyes. "We're working very hard at rebuilding things. He's been my best friend for nearly eight years. The best thing that ever happened to me was the day he returned my kiss," I admitted, looking him directly in the eye.

He closed his eyes momentarily and nodded. When he looked at me again, he seemed more relaxed as if I'd passed his test. Whether I had or not, it wasn't his test I had to pass. It was Edward's—and my own.

"Tell me about these images, Jasper. They seem to evoke such tenderness, considering the hands and feet are bound."

Aro continued to study the images, looking between the three photos. They were arranged one on top of the other with Edward's bound hands on top, his torso in the center and his feet, tied to the footboard, on the bottom. Edward's face was completely obscured so no one would know it was him. Well, perhaps his mother would recognize him.

"The lighting is beautiful. What did you use to illuminate the space?" he asked.

"Nothing. It was natural sunlight; that's all."

"Beautiful," he whispered. "The way the light plays across his chest. I can almost feel his toned muscles under my hand. But what I really like about this is the vulnerability I sense from your subject, and the care that you took to make sure he was relaxed. There's no muscle tension. No straining. He's utterly relaxed."

I nodded, seeing something I hadn't before.

"Was this staged, or were you making love when these were taken?"

I coughed, and Aro sensed my embarrassment at his very forward question.

"Oh, come now, Jasper. It's not like I'm the first person who's asked you that, am I?"

"Actually, you are." Taking a sip of my champagne, I gathered my strength.

"Hmmm. Well, tell me anyway. It's not like I haven't tied up my lovers. Tell me what inspired you," he urged.

After taking another sip, I studied the images and remembered Thanksgiving Day. "He was just beautiful that day, so trusting with his hands and feet bound. I had to photograph him, so I grabbed my camera. I wish I would've taken more photos but he … well, he…"

"He needed you, didn't he?" Aro finished with a smirk. I nodded. "Love before art, dear boy, because if we don't have love, then what's the point of having art? Unless it's to help you brood. But that's another thing all together." He quirked his head and looked at Edward's torso image again. "Knowing what I know now, I'm surprised there isn't more contraction in his abdominals."

"There were some images where there was a lot of tension … excitement, but the longer I photographed him, the more relaxed he became. It's these images that I liked the best," I shared.

"They truly are lovely," he sighed and took my arm in his as he moved us through the gallery. He spoke to me about my art, but more than anything, he asked about my dreams and ambitions. When I told him about my plans, he smiled and dropped my arm to face me. "You and Edward have a lot in common, it sounds like. I sense a real gentleness about you, Jasper, and I know Edward loves you." He quickly seemed to switch gears. "I wish you both the best of luck. I've kept you long enough. I must bid you adieu, Sir Jasper."

"Thank you for coming, Aro. It was such a pleasure to finally meet you. I hope to see you again soon," I said with a smile.

"I'm sure you will, dear boy. Good evening." He literally gave me a small bow, and I found myself copying the gesture.

When I looked up, I saw I was standing in front of another series of Edward's. This time it was several images of my hands. Hanging next to it was a series of mine portraying his hands. When we started talking one evening after our reconciliation, we realized we had both become consumed with each other's hands at one point. We found our original sketches and decided to use India ink to render three images each.

My pieces consisted of Edward sketching, his hands lying folded in his lap, and his hand resting across his bare chest as he slept. I had drawn the last one after I peeked in his room before I came out to him.

Edward's drawings were done with more detail than his typical sketches. These weren't representations rendered in only a few lines, but rather images that he'd taken great effort to "get right," he told me. No matter how many lines he used, his work was beautiful. He drew my hands in tight fists of frustration. It was a habit I had that I didn't even realize happened as often as it did until he mentioned it. The second image was of my fingers buried in my hair. My ear was exposed and my profile could be seen as well. Finally, he drew my hands drawing a labyrinth in a sketchbook balanced on my lap. It had a quality similar to Escher's _Drawing Hands_.

I studied Edward's drawings a few more minutes before I rounded the wall and took in the large E and J that I'd sculpted in the fall. They were in a fairly quiet part of the room, and I was hoping to take a few minutes to collect myself before becoming the social host again. Just as I was about to return, I was stopped by one of the servers. He was wearing too much cologne and standing much too close to me.

"Jasper?" he asked in a curious, but flirty voice.

"Yes? Do I know you?" I wondered aloud.

"Jasper from _Broke Straight Dudes_?"

I grimaced, and he knew he had the right guy.

"You have the most beautiful cock. I've jerked off to your videos so many times I actually know the dialogue in them. And who watches porn for dialogue?" he finished with a laugh.

I was stunned—frozen in my shoes—and I had no idea how to get out of the situation. It wasn't the first time I'd been confronted like this, but I'd never been alone. Zoë had always been there at the shop, and she easily beat the guys off me with her ability to read people and her snark.

"Uhhh … thanks," was all I managed as I bypassed him, avoiding his touch when he reached out and attempted to grab my arm.

I was completely taken off guard, so I headed to the restroom to try to compose myself. The moment I walked in, I regretted the decision to ever leave the gallery. My father stood there washing his hands. I never expected him to show up when I mailed him an invitation, so needless to say, his presence was a shock. The last thing I needed was to talk to him while I was already thrown off. I quickly turned on my heel and walked out.

He hadn't seen me.

I returned to the gallery, and Zoë immediately found me, asking what was wrong. Apparently, it was written all over my face. When I told her what had happened, she pulled me down into a tight hug and whispered, "Just let it go. This isn't the time to worry about your past. This is about the future."

It wasn't much, but her words calmed me a great deal. She always seemed to know how to help me refocus on the important things.

The rest of the night went off without a hitch. It didn't take long for me to forget the unpleasantness and get back to my job of talking to people who wanted to know about my art.

After the long day, walking in our front door was a relief. The familiar smell. The feel of the carpet under my sore feet. Just the sense that I could finally relax. All of it was exactly what I needed at that point. When Edward grasped my hand and led me to his room—a place I'd resisted going since moving back—I couldn't find a single reason not to follow him. If he wanted me to join him there, then who was I to question it?

Edward blew me away by giving me my cuff back and asking me to move back into his room. I'd sensed something had been on his mind besides our show, and when I saw the determination and anxiety in his face, I realized how much he'd been thinking about me moving back in. Of course I said yes, especially after what Alice had said to me earlier in the evening.

All I could think about as I buckled his cuff around his wrist was that I wanted him to be in the center of my life … all the time. So I told him as much.

"Ah fuck, no you don't! You're getting all romantic on me, and you know how that affects my libido," he growled as he pushed me back on the bed and started to kiss me, quickly overtaking me and stripping me of all my clothes. It took him less than a minute to have both of us naked and lying in the middle of our bed.

There was something in his eyes that spoke of commitment. I delighted in how he felt laid out on top of me, pressing all of himself into me. When his hips met mine, I groaned and met his thrusts with my own, sensing his cock stroking mine.

"Thank you, Jasper," Edward whispered against my lips. "Thank you for coming back home."

As I tasted his champagne-flavored mouth, the full meaning of his words struck me, and suddenly, I knew what I had to do. Cupping his jaw, I looked in his verdant eyes and smiled, receiving a thousand-watt smile in return.

"Even though I want you to make love to me right this moment, I think I need to move home first."

"What are you talking about?" He was obviously surprised by the sudden change.

"There isn't much to move, and I want to sleep in our bed only after it is truly our room again. Help me move my clothes? There isn't much," I goaded.

Sitting back on his heels, Edward looked at me like I'd grown a third eye. The inner eye? Perhaps it was.

"I want to do this right," I shared. "I only have my clothes and a few things. Let's make it official before…" I trailed off, feeling as if I was just repeating myself and not sure how to continue.

"Sure, Jasper. Let's do it," Edward suddenly said, giving my hip a small slap before he stood and pulled on his comic inspired Piss & Vinegar "I Love Boys" briefs. I had bought them especially for the art show. I must have sat there musing about his ass in his underwear a bit too long because he soon asked, "Am I going to have to move you myself?"

"I'll be right there," I promised as I searched for my boring white briefs. At least I'd upgraded to something that had a blue waistband and contrast stitching. I took a quick look at myself in the mirror before heading to my … the guest bedroom. Why I chose that moment to be vain, I don't know, but I wanted to look good for Edward. God knows he did—even carrying a laundry basket filled with all my folded jeans that he'd pulled from my dresser drawer. The muscles in his arms bulged from the angle that he held the clothes. I continued emptying the drawers and pulled out another clean laundry basket to help me make the move.

When Edward returned empty handed, he leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the mouth. "I'm not sure which drawer you want, but all the drawers that were yours before are still empty. I'll let you decide."

I nodded and went back to our room to start putting my clothes away. Edward worked on the hanging clothes, not having much guesswork with that. Each time we passed each other, we'd kiss and purposefully brush our naked shoulders. I'm sure we looked ridiculous. _The Underwear Movers: We move your wares in only our 'ware._ I chuckled at my ridiculous thought as I loaded the dresser. All we'd need is a photo of Edward in his underwear, and we'd be booked solid for months ahead.

I was musing over that thought when Edward walked in the room and knew something was up. When I told him, we joked about who would be the "cover boy" of our fictitious business. By the time all my clothes were put away, we'd designed the logo, talked about our advertising images, and even planned a thirty second television spot.

"Just a few more things," I cooed to Edward as I kissed him in our doorway. I didn't want to let go or peel myself away from his heated skin. Neither did he, apparently, because when I started to walk backwards he walked with me, kissing me on the entire journey though the house to the guest room. Only when we got there did he let me go.

Edward looked around the room and asked about the art on the walls. He carefully removed the pieces we decided we wanted in our room and hung them where they used to be on our walls. The only things left to move were my Murano glass, stone carvings, and green jar that held my change. As I pulled the items into our room and gently set them on top of the dresser the way they used to be, I noticed Edward had made a few trips into the bathroom. I'd forgotten about that. But now, my toiletries sat beside his in our bathroom again.

We'd done it.

Edward and I lay back on the bed, each on our own side, and looked around the room.

"This is how it's meant to be," he sighed and reached for my hand. "I thought when you moved back in the house I was content, but this…" he gestured around the room at the mix of our belongings, "this is how it's supposed to be. Eclectic and creative and us."

I rolled to my side and rested my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Our arms fell in their perfect places as our legs tangled in a familiar way. His breathing slowed, affecting mine in a similar way.

I reached out with my right hand to stroke the tooled leather that encircled his left wrist. As my thumb brushed across it, I looked at our matching cuffs and wove my fingers between his.

"I love you, Edward," I spoke in a near whisper. When I didn't get a response, I looked to his face and saw the unmistakable placid face of my sleeping love. I was able to slip out of his embrace, turn out the lights and get us both under the covers without waking him. After the long week we'd had, I wasn't surprised he succumbed to exhaustion. Moments later, I did as well.

I woke to banging on the front door and the sound of Edward showering. Heading for the door, I cracked it open to find Alice standing with a large box in her arms.

Graduation day.

Despite the fact that I was only wearing my tighty whities, I opened the door and invited her in. She greeted me with a kiss and a rushed "Good morning" and was then off to the backyard to decorate.

Sleepily, I headed to the shower … the shower I hadn't been in for months. I surprised Edward as I joined him and wrapped him in my arms, kissing and nipping at the skin on his neck and back.

"Alice is here in the backyard decorating. So I guess the weather is gonna hold," I told him as he rubbed his palms along my forearms and hands.

"I'd better get out there and help her. She has a lot to do, and I'm sure she'd appreciate our help." He spun to kiss me before stepping out and drying off. "I'll get coffee going and see you out back in a few." Edward hung up his towel and then stopped his hurried activities. He turned to me just as the water from the rainfall shower hit my head, sending chills down my back and causing my nipples to harden. His eyes traveled down my body as he saw how the spray was affecting it and gazed for a few moments before he collected himself. "I love you, Jasper."

I croaked out an "I love you" with my morning voice, and he was gone. As I washed, I realized there were no aches or pains in my muscles. I felt rested and relaxed despite only having five hours of sleep. There was no doubt it was because I was back in our room with Edward. I couldn't remember the last time I felt so good in the morning.

Sipping my coffee, I headed to the backyard and saw that Alice and Edward had a long collapsible table set up with flowers and glass rose bowls. I watched as they clipped and snipped various flowers that she'd brought and arranged them in the globes. The arrangements were simple and elegant, in shades of yellow and dark blue. Occasionally, she'd slip in a large orange Gerber daisy with the irises and some sort of lilies and small yellow daisies.

"What can I do to help?" I set my coffee cup down and brought a few flowers to my nose to smell them.

"Greenery," Alice said with authority. I needed more direction. "Oh come on, Jasper. You're an artist. Just put it in so that the arrangement looks balanced, like this," she spoke as she stuck a few sprigs of several different types of greenery that ranged from lime green to a dark olive green. I tried my hand at one vase and was given the approval of both Edward and Alice, so I continued.

As we worked on the arrangements, we talked about what needed to be done for our party. Soon tables and chairs were delivered and set up. Alice wasn't going to the actual graduation ceremony, so she was going to work on the finger sandwiches while we walked to Pomp and Circumstance.

At nearly noon, Edward's parents picked us up and dropped us off on campus to line up. The ceremony started at one thirty and lasted about three hours. Considering there were well over four thousand graduates, it went smoothly. Edward and I ended up sitting next to each other and I reached for his hand many times during the ceremony. It was long but the chance to walk across that stage wasn't something either of us were willing to miss.

By the time we arrived back at our house to greet guests, it was already five thirty, and we were hungry. Alice had transformed the backyard into a tasteful oasis of flowers and art. She had a fountain set up near the entrance where people were making wishes for the graduates. It wasn't large but it was full of silver and even a few gold coins. There was a table full of gifts. I hadn't expected presents, but they were there nonetheless. A few easels were set up around the yard with some of our paintings. There were even a few pieces that each of us had done when we were young children. I recognized a still life of fruit I'd colored when I was about seven. My medium was crayon. I found one of Edward's as well: a portrait of his family that he did in pastels when he was nine. I couldn't help but laugh and then give my mother the mock stink eye when I found her. Of course our mothers were behind this. And Alice.

The backyard quickly filled up, and we sat talking to people as we snacked. I tried to stay in contact with Edward, but we'd invariably be pulled in different directions and end up across the yard from each other.

It had been that way for days: always being separated. More than anything, I wanted to be alone with him. I didn't want to talk to Nigel about the art show or have more meetings with Dr. Banner. I no longer wanted to talk about menus or discuss the feelings and thoughts behind a particular drawing or painting.

I wanted quiet and solitude to gaze on my partner and show him how much I loved him with simple touches and silent conversations.

Walking around the yard, I made sure everyone had what they needed, opening bottles of beer and delivering them. I stepped into the garage for a moment and grabbed the box I sought. In the most open part of the yard, near the labyrinth, I set up croquet and bocce ball. I even found the badminton racquets and few birdies but ignored the net. Edward sensed what I was doing and couldn't contain his smile. We got the guests involved and discreetly slipped away to the studio and locked the door. All the blinds were closed on the side of the studio where our guests played. We were alone. No one could see us.

"I need you," I spoke with great want as I turned to face Edward who was obviously in the same state as I was. He had already tugged at his tie and most of the buttons of his shirt were opened. The last few were released from their slotted prison, and his shirt fell off.

"I need you, too. I just want to be alone with you," he admitted as if it were a secret. My body followed his movements, and my shirt and tie were thrown over the desk. We stood, shirtless, staring at each other. I kicked my shoes off and stepped out of my socks and watched as he did as well.

Closer. I needed to be closer, so I stepped in front of him. Close enough to touch with my fingertips but no more. Edward watched me, looking at the desire on my face, and reached for his slacks. I mirrored his movements, eyes dropping to watch as he undressed himself.

Belt.

Button.

Zipper.

It was slow. Unhurried. There was no need to rush. The sound of expensive material and metal belt buckles hitting hardwood was heard all around. We both stepped out of our pants, leaving them in a pile on the floor. I stepped backward, away from the slacks, away from our confines, pulling him with me and into my arms. Sighing when his chest met mine, I skimmed my eager hands down his satiny back, resting on top of the gentle curves of his ass. I kneaded the flesh, giving him what he craved before I pushed his underwear down his legs.

He followed suit, and we stood there naked in the middle of the studio with only a narrow wall separating us from over thirty guests. But we both needed this more than presents or food or money or congratulations. We needed this like we needed air.

I sat on the daybed and urged him down on top of me, resting my back against the cool leather. The leaves danced in the wind above the glass skylights, casting shadows on our bare flesh.

Our mouths met in a familiar rhythm, a comfortable cadence where he'd take and I'd give. Then I would steer and he'd relent. There was something so secure in the way we tasted each other, nipping and sucking between bites and licks. When his mouth met my neck and he bit me on the site that sent pure desire rushing to the four corners of my body, I didn't think. I just pulled him to me, reaching my long arms down to slide my fingers between his perfect cleft. Edward leaned up on his forearms, his forehead meeting mine and his eyes burning through me. He craved this.

Quickly, so as not to deny him, I slipped my finger in my mouth and wet it. Then I was back, pressing into his tight warmth, watching the effect the sensation sparked in him. His eyes burned a green flame of passion; his breath washed over my face, sultry, honeyed. Fingers tangled in my hair, and he drew back, eyes never wavering as he arched into my hand. I readjusted, reaching between our bodies, past his balls, so I could fuel his inferno and touch the ember deep inside him that would make him go supernova.

When I stroked it, he trembled above me, becoming a wavering mess of musical whimpers and moans. My belly was wet, and it took me several moments to realize that Edward had already come. His eyes never left mine. He had just intently stared at me, mouth open in desire and eyelids lazily blinking every so often.

I laughed. I couldn't help it, and he joined in.

"I guess I needed that even more than I realized," he joked.

"I guess you did, babe."

He sat up, and we both looked down at the thick, white come decorating my stomach. When he leaned forward to kiss me, he whispered, "I'll be right back." And he was after walking the few steps to the sink and back. A quick wipe of a washcloth, and he was back to kissing around my neck and down my chest, pulling my nipples between his lips and teasing them with his teeth.

I was lost in the sensation of his mouth on me and in my desire. My eyes closed to the world, and I felt myself further submerged. There I was, surrounded by the smell of graphite and carbon, paper and sunshine, and I could feel Edward's love being poured into me through his kisses. He took control, sucking and licking me until I was begging him to make love to me. When I moved to take him in my mouth, he told me he wanted to wait for my "sweet heat."

As he hovered over me, slowly pressing all of him deep inside of me, I couldn't help reaching out for him, trailing my fingertips across his eyebrows, his cheekbones, nose, lips. I traced around his Adam's apple and the hollow in his throat.

He filled me, able to heal emotional wounds by loving me in this perfect way. Cupping the back of his head, I lured him in for a kiss and pressed my palms into his sculpted chest. My thumbs brushed across his pale nipples, and the backs of my fingers soon rippled down his stomach. It was then that I allowed my hands to round his narrow hips while my thumbs circled the hipbones.

Thrusting into me, my hands squeezed his fleshy ass, urging him to press harder. Deeper. My fingers slipped to touch his most intimate flesh, and I sighed at the feel of his puckered skin on my fingertips once again.

His mouth found mine, and his kisses became intense and passionate. Every muscle in his body seemed to be alive, singing.

Between our bodies, he snaked his hand and touched me, holding me, stroking me, so I would feel everything he did. He tried to mimic the movements of his hips, but it was unnecessary. He knew what I needed.

"So perfect. So right. It's the only place to be." He practically sang in a musical voice beside my ear.

He did feel perfect.

"Warm." He was starting to breathe heavier, and it was getting more difficult to speak. But I wanted more. I was getting so close.

"Tell me. Tell me more," I panted.

"Wrapped in perfection. Finally inside." His hips pounded against my ass harder, hitting my prostate every time. I moved his hand away from my sensitive cock, wanting to wait for him.

He touched my face, skirting my features with his fingers.

"Wrap yourself around me, Jasper."

I complied, crossing my ankles behind his ass and pulling him deeper, taking over for him. My hands clawed at his back, and I felt his fire spreading across me, tumbling trough me. And soon, I was coming hard, hugging his dick in spasms, coaxing him to come with me, urging him to burn with me.

He curved his back, losing himself as his heat surged out of him and into me. I felt him pulse as he emptied into the condom. I couldn't keep from wondering what it would feel like if that sterile barrier weren't there dampening the blaze.

But his face was perfection, and we breathed heavily for many minutes before he had the strength to lift his head and speak. What he said was unexpected.

"You sleeping in our bed last night was amazing. It's the only place I ever want to be, wrapped in your perfection, your legs and arms surrounding me. Thank you for coming back … home."

I stared up at him. A tear slipped down my temple and landed in my hair. Since I was unable to speak, I pulled him to my chest and held him tight, tangling my legs with his.

#

We held each other as long as we could before we felt as if we needed to rejoin our guests. As I was pulling on my last sock, I turned to Edward and spoke.

"I want to give you your gift in private. Well, at least part of it," I admitted. Opening a drawer by my desk, I retrieved his gift. It was wrapped in paper of varying width stripes of greens and reds with a large red bow on the front of the flat package. He made quick but neat work of unwrapping, ensuring the paper could be used again. The white book was facing down, and I felt very nervous.

When he turned it over, a look of recognition and appreciation washed over him.

"The Missing Piece," he spoke with reverence as he gingerly stoked the cover of the Shel Silverstein book. He opened the book to see where I'd written a message for him.

_Edward~_

_I found my missing piece in a lunchroom, but I didn't realize it for seven years. I dropped you, crushed you, and had a hard time talking to you. But I don't want to let you go. I don't want to set you down. I can be myself—a better me—with you in my life._

_Let's roll through life together drawing and holding on and singing silly songs._

_I love you, Graduate._

_~Jasper._

"I love this book," he said. "Have I ever told you that?" He hadn't. Unshed tears glimmered in his eyes, and he drew me near. "I love it. Thank you."

"The rest of your gift is outside, and the world can see that," I announced. I'd bought him several Moleskine® Storyboard Notebooks so he could easily work on his comic ideas. They were his preference and aided him in jotting ideas down quickly before they "fell out of his head" like he said. I bought him ten.

He reached in his desk and presented me with a heavy box. It appeared to have cost more than our agreed limit. I was right. I opened the familiar white box that revealed a MacBook Pro laptop computer. I was speechless.

"You've needed a new computer for a long time, and while I know you do most of your work on the job, I wanted you to have something to design with at home that didn't take a ton of space. I think it'll work in a pinch, don't you?" he asked warily.

"It will definitely work … cheater." I hugged him and then tickled his ribs. "This is so much more than we agreed on."

"Too bad. I can't take it back. It's yours."

"Thank you, Edward."

When we locked the studio door behind us and stealthily meandered back into conversations in the backyard, it seemed we weren't missed. We opened gifts, and I was surprised by the membership to the Seattle Art Museum my mom bought us. We'd not only get into the SAM exhibits but also exhibits at twenty-nine other museums throughout the country.

Carlisle and Esme bought us plane tickets to Italy so we'd be able to experience it together. Edward kissed behind my ear and then said, "You get to come with me this time." I couldn't help but beam at the thought of us traveling together. Esme and Carlisle gave us a meaningful smile. They both knew how much we'd missed each other when they'd gone to Italy all those years ago.

#

Several hours later, after a quick appearance at the art department's graduation celebration, we were at New Moon ordering a round of drinks for our friends. We danced and talked, losing ourselves in a drunken celebration.

Our server hadn't been around in awhile so I headed to the bar to get Edward another drink. As I patiently waited for the bartender, a man in his fifties or so started to speak to me. I had a hard time hearing him initially, but as I leaned in, I heard him say, " … _Broke Straight Dudes_." I physically recoiled from him, and when he reached for me, I took another step back.

_What was it with these guys, and why did they always want to touch me?_

It was at that moment I saw our server walk by. I tapped her on the shoulder and ordered Edward's drink, returning to our table as fast as humanly possible. Everyone at the table could sense the tension rolling off of me, and it wasn't until Edward rubbed my back and kissed my neck that I finally started to relax.

I was keeping all the little run-ins I had because of my porn experience to myself. Deep inside, I knew I should tell Edward, but I didn't want to hurt him by bringing up the memories. That place had brought me nothing but terrible experiences. Sure, I got some cash, but at the price of being bashed, humiliated, and exposed. Worst of all, I ended up cheating on the man I love. If only I could've made it disappear.

Of course, that wasn't an option. I'd signed my likeness away just like I had with any and all images that were used when I modeled underwear or suits or sportswear.

Okay, it wasn't all bad. Perhaps I was stating it a bit strongly. It brought me to Edward, and the acceptance that I was gay. I wouldn't change that for the world. So in a strange, twisted way, I had to be thankful at the same time that I was regretful, and that wasn't easy to reconcile. I just couldn't help wishing I'd found my way to him more easily.

But it was what it was.

#

The following week, I started my job at Masen Design. Rather than starting on the bottom rung, I was actually working in a role where I was in charge of a very small design team. It wasn't much, just a little managerial experience. That had been Elizabeth's plan all along and the reason she kept calling me back for freelance work. She saw more potential in me than simply being a good designer; she'd told me as much when I asked her about it. "You're good with people, Jasper. I could see that from the start, and I knew you'd be a great asset to our team." It was slightly uncomfortable working above other recent graduates. At least initially. Once they realized I'd been freelancing for the company, they let me lead.

Edward still didn't have a job, but he kept looking. I offered to talk to Elizabeth or someone on the design team, but he wanted to make it on his own, and I respected that. How many years had I said the same thing to him? Of course, he was independently wealthy, at least to some degree. The house was paid for as well as his schooling, so it was only food and utilities and fun stuff to pay for. He reassured me he'd be okay.

It wasn't until the end of my first week after graduation that I had enough free time to get to my lawyer's office to sign the settlement agreement. Edward came with me and held my hand to calm me down. Jessica's and Mike's parents wanted to add a confidentiality clause last minute and sweetened the deal by offering to pay in one lump sum. In the end, I agreed and walked away from the law firm's office shaking, terrified I'd lose the check before it was deposited.

The first person I went to see after working with a financial advisor was Carlisle. When my motorcycle sold, I'd tried to pay him back. He flat out refused my money, telling me he didn't want a cent until I was done with school. Finally, I could pay off my debt.

I knocked on the Cullen's door and greeted Esme with a hug and a kiss. Edward wasn't with me. I wanted to do this alone … to clean up my mess. They were expecting me, and I was invited into Carlisle's study. I sat across from him with his expansive desk between us. The last time I'd been there to talk about money, I was terrified. This time I was far from it. As I wrote the check out, I added even more to the amount than he told me was due. He'd been far more accommodating than any other lender would've been, and I wanted to let him know I appreciated it.

"That's too much," Carlisle said with confusion as he picked up the check that I slid across this desk.

I shook my head and spoke. "No Carlisle. It's nowhere near enough. You— Can we just leave it at that?" I asked, unable to put everything into words.

He looked down at the check and back at me. Realizing there was no way he'd be able to change my mind, he stood and shook my hand. "Thanks, Jasper. For the record, I never had a doubt this would be repaid. Now, go home and take my son out. I think he said something about you guys celebrating with a quiet dinner tonight?"

"Yep." I nodded and told him about the reservations I'd made. Esme wouldn't let me leave before I had a handful of fresh herbs to bring home.

When I got home, I walked in the door and said, "Honey, I'm home," and when Edward rounded the corner, I handed him the herbs as if they were a small posy. He laughed at me and eagerly planned how he'd use the aromatic leaves.

I took him to a very posh restaurant where we ate several courses and seemed to eat and talk for hours. Once again, I ran into someone who knew me from _Broke Straight Dudes_, this time in the bathroom. Was I becoming a household name?

The day of Edward's birthday, July eleventh, I served him breakfast in bed, and we took a stroll through the Olympic Sculpture Park. His day fell on the weekend so there was no need to rush anything. We talked about everything, it seemed, strolling through the garden with entwined fingers, stopping every so often to taste each other's mouths. Before we met our friends and family for dinner, I gave Edward his gift.

Finally, I had a chance to give him something closer to the magnitude of the feelings I had for him. Gifts weren't about money, but since I finally had some, I decided to use it.

When he opened the art tube, he looked at me with confusion.

"I've spoken to Esme and an architect about expanding the studio, remodeling it so we have more room." He was silent as he unrolled the preliminary blueprints and studied them. Esme had done most of the legwork while I let her know how I thought things could be improved based on our experience in the space. Edward's fingers tentatively brushed the area I'd requested for him, a place with everything he'd need, including a custom built light table.

I didn't know how he'd feel about it, considering the studio hadn't been built that long ago. "I thought since we aren't students anymore, we could think about the long term and how we'll use this space."

Edward buried his head in my neck and squeezed me, repeating "thank you" again and again.

Over the next few months, our studio was transformed into the most perfect space for us. We had a nice step-down seating area that included our favorite Barcelona daybed as well as a few more leather pieces. Esme insisted on the natural gas fireplace, saying it would visually and physically warm the space and make it feel homier. In fact, the only thing that would be missing from the studio when it was completed was a kitchen. When I mentioned this, Esme's mind went wandering, but we stopped her. This was a studio, not an apartment.

More windows were added to the space, and we fixed the one thing that had been the most frustrating: we connected the building to the rest of the house. No more keys needed to get in or rainy dashes into the mudroom. I could be in the living room and ask Edward a question while he sat at his new desk, and he was able to hear me.

Our desks were no longer side-by-side, but now, we each had a much larger workspace. I basically took over our former studio area with a newly built L-shaped desk, and Edward's U-shaped desk was in the new section. He created a workspace that had everything he needed to work, from his elevated worktable to the light desk. We could still watch each other work, and I would often get lost in him as he concentrated or studied his creations.

Some things that we thought we'd lose when we connected to the house were the overhead windows, but Esme worked it out so that there was a large skylight right above the seating area. The studio no longer looked like a glorified greenhouse; it was now part of our home. Looking out the new addition, the labyrinth was visible. In fact, most of the backyard was, hence the reason we decided to forego blinds, which we both hated fiddling with, and added easy-to-close plantation shutters.

During the renovation, we'd occupied the dark and cramped attic. The more time Edward spent up there, the more he started getting ideas about remodeling that as well. As soon as our supplies were brought into the studio and arranged in their new homes, he changed his mind and didn't feel the need to fix anything else in our house for a while.

It was, by far, the most elaborate gift I'd given anyone, but so worth it when it was finally completed.

Sun rays streaked down on our naked bodies as we consecrated the room, making love and claiming the space as our own. The studio was one of those places where we could come together in a more spiritual way. Perhaps it was because it was a creative space where we opened ourselves up to greater possibilities. Maybe it was coincidence. No matter. I just always felt I gave myself to Edward a little more freely in that space than any other, and it seemed he did as well.

#

On a Saturday afternoon in late August, while Edward was at yet another job interview, I was out with Rose and Emmett who were now officially living together and engaged, for that matter. Their wedding was going to be in early October, and Edward and I were going to be standing up for the couple, me for my sister and Edward for Emmett. We were at a fairly quiet bar and grill when I was approached, once again, about being in porn. This time it happened in front of Rosalie and Emmett. I was lucky this had never happened in front of my boss or coworkers. As soon as the guy was gone, they started in with their questioning.

"How often does that happen?" Rose asked over Emmett's "Dude, you're famous."

"Infamous is more like it. It's not at all something I want to be famous for, and I get it probably once every few weeks. It seems to be increasing a lot though, and it really bothers me. I've wanted to talk to Edward about it, but I feel like I can't," I admitted with shame.

"Jasper, you need to be honest with him," Emmett chimed in. "You know what secrets did in the past. No more of emo-Edward and secretive-Jasper for me. Talk!"

After Emmett's chiding, my sister actually got me to tell her why I was uneasy about telling Edward. She and Emmett looked at each other with very odd expressions and then changed the subject, talking about wedding plans and wondering when they'd be able to buy a house.

It wasn't until September that I told Edward, and it was because someone asked me in front of him if _Broke Straight Dudes_ really made me gay. Fury was wrinkled all across Edward's forehead as he told the guy to "go fuck himself and stop asking people such rude questions." It was fitting that this happened at the coffee shop that was the location for so many of our difficult talks. Zoë was there that evening and saw it happen. She pounced on the guy, and he left looking ashamed of himself, but the damage was already done.

So I told Edward how it had been happening more and more since the middle of May and how I'd tried to ignore it, but it was really hard.

"Why didn't you tell me, Jasper?" he asked, and I saw the hurt and a glimpse of betrayal in his face.

Sitting beside him, I wrapped my arm around his back and pressed my lips to his ear so I could whisper. "It's bad enough that you witnessed those videos; I didn't want you to have to relive them. I was trying to protect you and—" I stopped and leaned back, looking at his open face. "I guess I was trying to take care of it all myself again, wasn't I?" I questioned, suddenly realizing the truth of my actions. He nodded, and I took a deep breath that I released as a sigh. "Old habits die hard, don't they?"

Edward looked down at the booth between us, and I had no idea what was going on in his head.

"Hey." I begged, "Please look at me." He raised his eyes so they were level with mine, and I spoke with apprehension. "I'm sorry. I didn't think it was going to keep happening. I thought it was a fluke thing, but I see now that it wasn't. It's only a big deal because it really throws me off my game. I don't know how to handle it."

"Tell me … tell me what you feel when someone recognizes you from your videos," he encouraged.

I took a deep breath and pursed my lips while I reached for his hand. Just the feel of his fingers touching my palm soothed me enough to start to make sense of my disparate emotions.

"I feel as if every time someone recognizes me, I lose a little bit of power over who I am." I shook my head, not sure if that's what I meant. "Like all these preconceived notions about me are standing in front of the real me. Not that I want to know these people or for them to know me, but it takes away from who I am. It takes away from what we are and what we've rebuilt despite all that. The memory of that just rips at the shreds of self-esteem I have some days." I stopped and Edward waited, sensing I wasn't done. "It makes me feel like I have no control … because technically I don't."

Edward didn't speak. He wasn't mad or disappointed. What he did was pull me into his chest and let me rest my ear over his heart and finger his shirt until I was ready to say more. I was never able to articulate it better.

Even when I talked to Dr. Victor, who I was now only seeing on occasion, I couldn't explain it. What he was most pleased about was that I spoke to Edward and that I realized I was trying to fix things by myself and reached out for help. One thing he asked me after discussing my ability to share was, "What can you do to gain control over the situation?" He left me with that thought and told me to "consider it" until our meeting at the end of October.

Rosalie and Emmett got married at the beginning of October when the leaves reminded me of Edward's hair in the sunlight. It was beautifully planned by Alice and very much fit the bride and groom: classic without being overstated. My father didn't walk Rose down the aisle, not because he didn't want to, but because my sister was opposed to being treated as "property" she said. I think my father was initially hurt when he was told the news, but there was a nice dedication ceremony where the parents of the bride and groom symbolically let go of their children so they could give themselves fully to the other. Only then were the vows and rings exchanged. It was truly beautiful.

We had to toast the couple as well, and while words came easy to Edward, I had a hard time. In the end, I talked about my feisty sister and how committed she was. They were a great match and both of our toasts reflected that. The newlyweds had planned a dance in our honor, and we took to the dance floor to smiles amidst the looks of shock. We danced cheek to cheek to Louis Armstrong singing "What a Wonderful World," basically announcing to everyone in my extended family that I was gay. Nothing was said, no fights broke out, and not a single straight man was turned gay that night. I even kissed him as we swayed, allowing my tongue to dance with his.

It was a beautiful night, perfect in so many ways. Even my father behaved for the most part, though he was noticeably absent a lot.

Edward and I stood at the bar with drinks in our hand when my father joined us. He obviously had been off drinking somewhere and was drunk. "So does that mean since you were the maid of honor that you're the bottom? I mean, you have that … angelic look about you with your cupid curls and all."

My hands balled into tight fists, and Edward seemed to turn bright red with anger.

"Jack," I refused to address him as my dad at that moment because he wasn't acting like one. "Our sex life is really none of your business. I don't pry into yours."

"Nope," he dragged out, popping the P at the end of the word. "I guess it's okay to get fucked and post it on the internet. But if that happened that would … make it my business?" he mocked.

This was probably the most humiliated I'd felt over what I'd done, but I pulled Edward back when I saw him ready to step in for me.

"Again, what Edward and I do in our bedroom, our house, our life is none of your fucking business. Now, go sober up before you ruin your only daughter's wedding reception, you lousy fuck." I walked away before I hit him.

On the dance floor, I danced with my sister, and sure enough, she saw that something had gone down between Dad and me. I explained it to her quickly, trying to make light of the situation. He must have left; Edward confirmed it when he joined us on the dance floor. Apparently, Edward helped him into a cab and paid the driver to take him to his hotel. The rest of the night was peaceful.

Ten days later, we were over at Rosalie and Emmett's apartment watching a slideshow of their honeymoon and being regaled with funny stories about getting locked out of their ocean side room while having sex on their patio. Emmett saved Rose by being the one to sacrifice his dignity, wearing a leaf into the hotel and getting a spare key to their room.

We'd been there for hours, drinking, laughing, and talking. Edward and I were starting to get a bit silly. I excused myself for a bathroom break, and when I returned, Rose and Emmett were talking to Edward about all the confrontations I'd experienced in regards to _Broke Straight Dudes_. I was angry, thinking Edward brought it up, but Rosalie admitted to being the one, knowing I'd already talked to each of them about it. I settled down once it was all out there and told them what Dr. Victor had told me to consider. Everyone was quiet, pondering his question, so I opened another beer.

"You can't do anything about what's already out there except wait for it to go away and be replaced by other, more popular videos," Emmett offered but still looked deep in thought.

"Have you considered doing porn for another company … like one that's more classier?" Edward asked, obviously wasted.

"What? You don't get to have anymore to drink tonight," I announced, and he then had the wherewithal to realize he'd fucked up.

He held his forefinger to his lips and said, "Shhhh, Edward. You don' get to talk no more. You're too drunk." He was a slurring mess, and I pulled him to me to kiss his temple and drink in his scent. There was nothing more adorable than a drunk Edward.

"You know—" Rosalie started but then abruptly stopped, taking a sip of her soda. She leaned into Emmett and whispered in his ear. They smirked and Emmett snuggled her to his chest while Rose started to speak. "You can't control what's on the internet. You can't control the company from showing your image. What do you have control over?"

Whether I had control over the internet, my image, or how I had sex wasn't the issue. What mattered more than anything was the man who was passing out beside me. I called a cab, and while I waited and Edward slept in my lap, I listened to Rosalie and Emmett's take on my situation.

Edward was too drunk to walk, so Emmett and I supported him between us as we got him downstairs and slid him across the pleather seat of the cab. I thanked Emmett and climbed in, praying Edward wouldn't throw up on the way home.

He didn't.

To get him in the house, I clumsily got him on my back, giving him a piggyback ride into the bedroom where I undressed him and tucked him in.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling for hours. Not even spooning behind Edward relaxed me enough to sleep.

It didn't matter what I'd done in my past. Right then mattered. I was a different man, and I'd "restarted" my life in many ways in the past months.

Edward turned toward me and murmured, "Jasper, little spoon. Edward, big spoon." I laughed but complied, and wouldn't you know it? I fell asleep.

#

For the next several days when I arrived home from work, I'd find Edward sitting in the studio staring out the window or at the fireplace or even simply down at his desk with his hands folded in his lap. I'd watch him for many minutes as I leaned on the doorjamb, waiting for him to "find his inspiration" and return to the work laid out on his desk. When he didn't move for what seemed like forever, I'd make my presence known and ask what he was doing. It was usually the same answer.

"Oh good, you're home. Supper's ready." He'd greet me with a kiss and a smile that only met his mouth though. When I'd ask if something was bothering him and eventually admitted I noticed how pensive he seemed, he tried to ease my mind. "Just thinking about things. There's a lot in my head, but nothing major. Listening to my muse, if you will … or trying to find her."

Eventually, I savored those moments when I was allowed to study him in his quiet repose. I'd slip in the house and out of my work clothes. With my comfortable jeans and T-shirt on, I leaned against the doorway and watched to see the placid calm on his face. Some days, his forehead was wrinkled in concentration, and his shoulders curled tightly around him. Other days, he'd be playing with a pencil, rolling it between his fingers before the blunt end would make it to his lips.

One day, I came home, and he was working furiously, sketching and talking to himself. When he saw me, he gave me a devilish smile, and I knew I was in trouble. He had a crazy idea.

#

It had happened again; pure embarrassment over a Halloween costume. But at least this time it wasn't because my hard cock was on full display. It was flaccid and well hidden behind the cylinder I'd just heaved over my head after pulling it out of Edward's trunk. I felt like one of those naked guys wearing a barrel that was held up with suspenders. Okay, that's basically what I was, but I wasn't naked. I was wearing brown pants and a red shirt and we were waiting for the door to open.

Alice, with a long blonde wig and crown on top, started to laugh as soon as she saw us and waved us through the door as she tried to gather herself. The party had already started. I gave her a quick smile and headed toward the alcoholic beverages. It was my turn to get drunk and Edward's to drive, and it was a good thing. My costume was much more humiliating than his.

"Oh my goodness," Bella cooed, who was obviously Dorothy to Alice's Glenda the Good Witch. Her voice lowered to attempt to sound like a man's as she continued with Alice now by her side. "Hey, you got your chocolate in my peanut butter!"

Of course Alice chimed in. "You got your peanut butter on my chocolate."

Zoë chose that moment to show up and mimed taking a bite. "Delicious!" she shouted, getting everyone's attention in the entire frickin' house. It got worse.

All three girls start singing, "Reese's Peanut Butter Cup."

I was mortified as I looked over at my Hershey bar, Edward, who reached for my hand. It served me right for telling him he was in charge of the costumes after last year. But no, I was walking around as a peanut butter jar. At least, this year we didn't have to explain who we were. Everyone seemed to get it.

This was a party I'd known about for awhile. A month prior, Edward and I each received an email pleading for us to work together to create an invitation for the party. The theme, she told us, was going to be Television Through the Ages. Basically, if it was on television, it was golden. Edward and I worked on the invitation, and it was a joy to do so. It had been too long, and it encouraged us to talk about what Dr. Banner told us during our show: that we should keep working together.

With my job taking at least forty hours a week of my life away from Edward and all of those being spent designing, about the last thing I wanted to do when I got home was sit down and design some more. Since most of my work at Masen Design was done on the computer, Edward encouraged me to use my hands at home. "Forget the mouse. Forget the digital drawing pad. Use your fingers." It was a freeing experience not being locked into pixels, to just put lead to paper again.

I hadn't wanted to come to the party at all, hoping I could avoid it and the painful memories of last year. Edward insisted, saying it would be a "therapeutic" experience. I'm sure my resistance to the costume was actually opposition to the entire party—hence the reason I was drinking. Edward had to heal, too, but he didn't seem nearly as anxious as I was. Perhaps because he'd been to this house several times in the last year where I hadn't.

Zoë sidled up to me and threaded her arm through mine, leading me into the living room. She brought Xander, and they were dressed as Morticia and Gomez Adams. We walked around the house, talking to people I'd seen before but didn't really know. Just having her beside me helped me feel more relaxed and less like I was going to have some sort of crazy flashback.

I missed seeing her nearly every night after quitting my job at the coffeehouse. Edward and I still hit it up on weekend mornings and occasionally in the evening, but I no longer got the hours of time with her I used to have. We tried to make up for it by going out either on double dates, as a group, or occasionally by ourselves.

Edward stepped up behind me and wrapped his arms across my chest, just above the "lid" of my peanut butter jar. He pressed his lips to the back of my neck, and I shivered as the new growth on his face tickled me. The last time he'd shaved was my sister's wedding. "I'm going for the eccentric artist look," he teased me when I asked if he was ever going to shave. There wasn't a lot to shave for in recent weeks. His interviews and job leads had dried up, and he was working at home on things he wanted to. I missed kissing his smooth face, but at least now, the whiskers had softened a bit.

No one got utterly embarrassed, exposed, or injured at the party, and I had to admit to Edward afterward that it was a smart thing to do. I tucked my "jar" in the trunk again, and we soon took off. I only had one beer, and Edward stuck to 7-UP or sparkling water.

In our room that night as we lay naked and spent after he made love to me, talking dirty and sweet all in the same sentence, I couldn't help notice the moonlight as it slipped past the windows. His beauty only seemed to grow exponentially in the silver light.

"Beautiful," I whispered in the dark, positive he was asleep.

Edward stirred beside me, pushing on my shoulder so that I was lying on my stomach. He straddled my hips but didn't rest any weight on me.

One kiss on my left shoulder blade, soft and wet. Then a tongue sliding across to the right. Kisses. Licks. Moving down my back, he tasted each and every scar until he reached my surgical scar. He rolled me to my back and looked up at me. The tip of his tongue darted out, and he ran it along the long line.

It was the first time he'd kissed every scar in his familiar pattern in ages.

"You are perfection to me. I love all of you, Jasper. The scars I can see and the ones in your heart." His mouth made exquisite contact with my chest, and he stayed there. I swear I could feel his pulse on my skin before he pulled his lips together, leaving my flesh with a wet noise. "Can I be the little spoon tonight?" he asked.

I nodded and pulled his body to mine, sensing the underside of my cock slide right along the cleft of his cheeks.

I drew him closer.

* * *

**Edit: 3/7/2012**


	36. Connections

**Connections**

The breeze picked up and carried tiny droplets of water to me, letting them fall across my forehead, which was furrowed in concentration and pain. My ass was killing me from sitting on the unyielding stone, but I refused to move. Jasper sat a few feet away on the edge of the Trevi fountain, his foot propped on the ledge as he looked at Oceanus and his sea horses. We were there at night with the fountain lit up, making it appear as if one triton had little control of the restive horse which was about to break free from the marble confines and trample down the craggy rocks to flatten us. The lighting brought out the warm hues in the marble, bathing the water in a yellowish glow that created shadows across Jasper's face, revealing his strength. His cheekbones seemed to be more chiseled, angular and masculine. The darkness unveiled the nuance of color in the contours of his hair and the lean lines of his body. The powerful set of his jaw contrasted his tranquil eyes that studied the docile horse which was calmed by the triton who blew through his conch shell. While I'd always seen Jasper as stable and grounding, I also saw the tempest hidden just beneath the surface. As he gazed over the watery surface, I could easily see a majesty there that had never before been revealed to me.

I stopped all movement of my pencil and tried to drink in that moment.

Reluctantly, I started to draw again, knowing if I ever wanted to be able to sit again, I had to get off that stone ledge. After finishing the shading on his neck, I stood, signaling I was done. He reached in his pocket and pulled out two coins. Handing me one euro, we stood with our backs to the fountain as we tossed them over our shoulders into the water. If we ever returned to Rome, it would be wonderful, but I'd now traveled the city with Jasper and seen everything I had wanted. Grasping his hand, we walked to our hotel where we made love much like we had nearly every night of our journey.

It was November, and Jasper had decided to use some of his vacation so we could travel in the off-season. We wanted to enjoy Italy, not complain about the crowds. It worked out perfectly.

We took the train to Venice, traversing the Ponte di Rialto and walking in Piazza San Marco among the pink marble of Doge's Palace and the domes of the ornate basilica. Jasper and I spent time perusing local merchants, eating gelato, studying the architecture and art, and trying to absorb the feel of the city into our bones. Sitting back while a gondolier took us around the city via canals, I couldn't help but hold Jasper close and discreetly place kisses on his neck. The narrow streets we walked to get to our hotel were perfect places to stop and let our kisses become deeper and more passionate. He'd press me against different ancient buildings as the spirit overtook him, and I couldn't help but feel connected to all the other people who had probably once leaned against those structures to express their love. Eventually, we'd be interrupted by a woman opening her shutters or children chasing a soccer ball down the cobbled road and continue on our way.

It was in Venice near the Ponte de Rialto where we dropped a keychain in a small box that was hidden behind a brick on a building. What we left with the other "treasures" was nothing impressive to most people, but it meant something to us. We'd found part of it during our studio renovation when the attic served as our interim workspace.

As I swept the room, readying the space for our makeshift desks I heard the unmistakable sound of metal clinking and skittering across the wooden floor. Leaning over, I found a silver skeleton key amidst the dirt.

"What d'ya have there, Edward," Jasper had asked with curiosity. I walked to him as he stood near the window, the only source of natural light in the room, and showed him the heavy little key. It was fairly ornate with turnings and elaborate filigree on the head. For weeks, we had tried the key on various doors and locks throughout the house, making our best guesses on what we thought it unlocked. We never found out, but it was fun to imagine a heavily-laden steamer trunk or a jewelry box loaded with diamonds and rubies.

I started to carry the showy key in my front pocket each day. I'd finger it absentmindedly when I missed Jasper or concentrated on something that took more brain power. It became my worry stone, of sorts. The head of the key would be pressed against my lips as I drew and would often be resting on my open palm when Jasper would come home. In the evenings as we watched television, cuddled next to each other on the couch, the key would come out, and we'd play with it together. Many times, my awareness was pulled from the television, and I'd completely focus on how our fingers pressed into the metal—the way Jasper would twist the key between the pads of his thumb and forefinger and the way it felt against my skin as he did so. We'd pass it back and forth, and I'd study how the key looked in his palm, nearly being swallowed by his large hand. The only time it wasn't with me was at night when it sat between our glass pieces on our dresser.

When Jasper and I talked about going to Italy, we decided we wanted to leave a bit of ourselves there so we bought a keychain and added the key as well as a small sculpture of an artist's palette the two of us worked on together. We left it there behind that ancient brick with instructions and the hope that we'd see it again someday.

Rome. Venice. Florence. It was a circuitous route, but we wanted it that way so we could experience the "real" Italy, stopping in small villages and eating with families that we met along the way as we hiked or drove or rode on the train.

In Florence, we found a wonderful shop that created handmade leather journals. Jasper and I lost ourselves in the smell of paper and hide, and I had to stop him from sending practically the entire store back to Seattle. He spent nearly an hour talking to the owner who barely spoke English. The artisan took Jasper and me back to his workroom and showed us some of his time-honored traditions. As Jasper tried to absorb the processes, I sketched the two of them deep in conversation. When we said good-bye, I gave the man the drawing. He loved the attention and was pleased he had something by which to remember his "new American friend." Jasper had a box of journals mailed home.

It was inspiring to be walking in the birthplace of the Italian Renaissance, knowing I stepped on the same cobblestones as Michelangelo, Giotto, Pisano, and Leonardo da Vinci had walked. It felt larger than life.

We ended our journey in Vatican City and spent several days trying to take in all of the masters' works. It could take a lifetime to absorb it all though, and as we took the Leonardo Express to the airport, we attempted to put it all into perspective.

"It means so much more in person than it ever did in the classroom," Jasper mused. "And the thing is, it meant a whole hell of a lot in the classroom. Can you imagine growing up here? Would you even appreciate it if you walked through beautiful piazzas on your way to school each day?"

"I don't know. I think it's a lot like the moss covered trees back in Forks. We knew they were beautiful, but it wasn't until we were living in Seattle that we honestly appreciated the forest," I offered.

"I guess it just makes me want to explore Seattle more and … I don't know … not miss out on things. I want to pay attention to things and not take them for granted. Like your beard," he whispered as his lips explored my facial hair. "I don't want to forget how this feels against my lips because someday you're going to shave it off, and I won't be able to do this." His cheeks and chin smoothed against my rough hair, and he peppered my naked skin with wet kisses. I captured his mouth and kissed him back until a little girl popped up in the seat in front of us and started to stare. We spent the rest of the trip to the airport talking and reserved our kisses for the backs of our hands.

We were lucky enough to fly first class and fell asleep on the plane, so when we arrived in Seattle at close to noon, we could adjust quicker and hopefully avoid jet lag. For the most part, it worked, and Jasper was able to return to his job with few ill effects.

I didn't have much to worry about, considering I was still without a job. Several times a week I would go online to various sites to see if positions were available, but there never were. I'd been positive I was going to be an editorial cartoonist, thinking it was my calling, but then I did it and found out it wasn't at all what I thought it was. The part that most bothered me was the copious amounts of research that had to go into each and every cell before my pen could even touch the paper. I could do it. In fact, I was good at it, and several editors had praised me for my wit. The problem was that I found no joy in it, and my creativity felt stifled by current events. Plus, there were few jobs available.

Disillusioned. I guess that's what you could call me.

So I looked for other work. But with the very specialized internship I had, there weren't a lot of companies who'd give me the time of day. I didn't give up working for myself though. I just didn't pay myself very well … for the most part.

A little over a week after returning from Italy, we headed to my parents' home to eat turkey and stuffing. It was just the four of us; a much quieter affair than the previous year. Thankfully. Rosalie and Emmett drove to Forks to spend Thanksgiving with Elise. We'd traveled there many times in the previous months, and they insisted that they make the trip this time.

Jasper was increasingly concerned about Elise living in Forks. It was, in part, because she was so far away from Rosalie and him, but the fact that Jack still lived in the same town made him nervous, too. Jasper felt she should get away from the small town and her soon to be ex-husband, but that was easier said than done. Her friends were there. Her job. Her community. If she were going to move anywhere, it would most likely be back down south, and then a trip to see her wouldn't be nearly as easy. So as it was, Jasper talked to his mom nearly every day and made sure she was taken care of. Anything else he could manage, he'd do, but it was good for Rose and Emmett to spend some time with her and give Jasper a break.

My guess was that he was trying to make up for the abuse that happened. He still carried guilt around that it was his fault his mother was ever hurt in the first place. Knowing it wasn't his fault and actually feeling it wasn't were two very different things. When I told him what I thought, he immediately denied it and got defensive. About an hour later, he sought me out and told me I was right.

"But there's nothing I can ever do to make up for his mistakes," he whispered, sounding defeated.

"You're right, Jasper. Because they were _his_ mistakes, not yours," I clarified. He let out a beaten-down sigh and nodded. I could see the truth spreading through him, and it seemed to somehow be washing him of some imaginary film. After our conversation, I noticed Jasper spoke to his mother less often, and when he did, he didn't dote on her like before. He was able to let her go some.

We made it a habit to go out with our friends on a more regular basis, which was a new thing for us. With school being over, the social lives we had through the campus studio died, too, so it was important to get out. Sometimes we'd head out to a club with all our friends or go on quieter adventures to our favorite restaurants. We also started going to some of the gay pubs to hang out and on occasion made it to a gay club.

The week after Thanksgiving, Emmett and Rosalie asked us to go out to eat with them. They reassured Jasper that Elise was doing well, even though he didn't ask, and he gave me a sheepish smile. I smiled warmly back and placed my hand atop his and squeezed. He didn't need to feel guilty about caring about his mom.

As soon as we were done ordering, Emmett and Rose turned to us with expectant faces. "We have some news," Emmett started.

"I'm pregnant." Rosalie beamed and then giggled at us. I'm sure we both looked shocked. "I know. I know. It wasn't our plan to get pregnant on our wedding night, but I guess that's what happened."

Jasper and I finally stammered out our congratulations, giving hugs to both of them.

"At least this way, I can run after little ones while I still have the energy," Rose joked. "Mom already knows, so you don't have to worry about keeping it a secret from her, but so far, it's only Mom and you guys until we're a little further along."

"Uncle Jasper," I said wistfully and pulled him into my side, kissing his temple.

"Yes, Uncle Edward?" he quipped back.

"Hey, I'm just Uncle Jasper's boyfriend. I don't really have an official role here."

"Like hell you don't," Emmett roared, clapping his huge hand on my shoulder. "You are officially Uncle Edward come next June. Plain and simple. Now, tell us all about Italy."

We told them about our trip, but Jasper kept going back to the baby. He was obviously excited about being an uncle. I'd never seen him quite so focused on one topic and unable to switch gears. It was endearing. Eventually, Emmett successfully changed the subject, and we started talking about how much our lives had changed or were about to change in the near future. Mine was probably the one that was the most constant. Now that we were moved back into our studio, life had gone back to … normal. If nothing happened in the job department, then I'd have to find a way to start making money.

I had started dipping into my savings to pay for groceries and bills, and once Jasper realized what I was doing, he asked me to meet him downtown for lunch. As I waited for him at a table festooned with evergreen fronds, red berries, and faux snow, I looked around me. Everyone wore suits and ties. The only people in the entire restaurant who weren't "dressed for success" were the service staff, but even their uniforms looked dressed up compared to the vintage T-shirt and jeans with a hole in the knee that I wore. I certainly could clean up to look like the people trying to get some sustenance in before they window shopped for Christmas or Hanukkah and returned to work, but there was no reason to pretend.

"Hey babe. I'm glad you met me," Jasper said as he leaned down and kissed me on the mouth. I immediately relaxed in his presence and felt better about how I was dressed when I saw his shirt was unbuttoned and his tie loosened around his neck. He sat across from me and we quickly ordered a light lunch, fingers threading together on the tabletop. "I wanted to talk to you about a few things."

I knew something was up, so I nodded and waited, taking a sip of water.

"I know it's been hard for you, not working and all. It's not a great time to be looking for work. Anyway…" A tight line formed between his eyes. "I know you've been taking money out of your savings account to pay for things. I'd be more than willing to talk to Elizabeth or Terry, my team leader, about you. If Terry saw your work, he'd be all over you, begging you to come and work under him."

My brow furrowed, and I took a minute before I spoke. "I don't want you to call in favors for me. I've been doing that my entire life. Somehow, I need to find a job without connections. I think of anyone out there you'd understand wanting to make it on your own."

Jasper nodded and retracted his hand just as the waitress delivered our first course. I watched as his lips enveloped his soup spoon; my salad fork stopped mid-way to its goal. He caught me and winked, lavishly licking his lips before using his napkin.

"I do understand. I understand very well, but I want you to know the offer is out there. I'm more than willing to go to bat for you, because I know you'd make a great addition to Masen," he said with utter certainty.

"Thanks, Jasper. Eventually, something has to come through. Now, let's talk about more pleasant things, like Christmas."

When I got home that afternoon, I walked around the studio aimlessly. I knew Jasper was trying to help me, but for some reason, I just couldn't find it in me to accept it. I sat in the leather chair and stared into the flickering flames, getting lost in their dancing shapes.

In some ways, I loved the way my life was going. I enjoyed the routine we easily fell into when Jasper started working at Masen in June. Each morning, I'd wake up and eat breakfast with Jasper, occasionally making him something extra special like waffles or an egg white omelet. Once he left the house, I'd shower and head to the studio where I'd sip coffee and work. For lunch, I'd often head to the coffeehouse and try to find inspiration. Some days it worked. In the afternoon, I'd start supper and head to the studio to work some more.

I sighed, took a quick sip of coffee, and directed my gaze outside to the falling snow. We'd had quite a bit of snow already, but it was beautiful to watch come down and land on the shrubs and trees in the backyard. The sight made me shudder and reminded me of the things I struggled with each day.

Most days I was uninspired. I'd open my sketchbook and page through it, looking at things I'd drawn previously. It was my hope that it would spark something new, but it rarely did. So I'd look out the window or at the fireplace or just down at my hands—as if they could somehow help me find a job that would allow me to make a living and assist me in finding my lost muse. She had gone … somewhere. The last time I felt her really fill me up was in Italy, but how could anyone not feel inspired when visiting that beautiful country?

There was no point in feeling sorry for myself, so I packed my messenger bag, dumped my coffee, and headed to my parents' house. It still wasn't unusual for me to escape there on stressful days. I'd swim laps, soak in the hot tub, and let my mom spoil me from time to time.

Both Mom and Dad were home, which was unusual for a weekday. They greeted me and Mom said, "Need a swim, huh?" She knew me well. I swam for nearly an hour before I showered and joined my parents for lunch. We ate in companionable silence, aside from the appreciative noises we directed toward my mom's cooking. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed they were looking at each other with concern.

Finally, my dad broke the silence and asked if I needed to talk about anything. When I told him about my lack of job, dried up leads, and missing muse, he asked me some helpful questions. "Do you have to rely on someone else, an employer, to make money?" When I didn't answer, he continued. "I know you expected to work for a company and wanted to have some direction, but are there any other ways you can do what you want to do … on your own? Without a newspaper or syndication?"

I sighed and shook my head and a tore off a piece of bread. "I don't know, Dad. There's nothing out there right now, and no one's interested in what I have to offer. Maybe I need to find something else. I could work in a gallery or even an art store. I suppose I could teach some classes." I wasn't happy about any of those options. I'd considered moving to another state to work on animated features, but I refused to leave Jasper after everything we'd been through. If I had to burn up my savings so I could stay with him, I would.

As I drove away that afternoon, my mind raced and considered all manner of possibilities. My parents had continued talking to me, Mom sharing information from the art community she was surrounded by and my father thinking of things pragmatically. They were a great team, but I quickly realized why I analyzed things to death before I was able to make decisions. I'd basically been trained to look at every side of a problem through multiple lenses.

I stopped at the grocery store and filled my basket with everything I needed to make shepherd's pie and chocolate chip cookies. At home, I chopped fresh vegetables while the potatoes boiled, all the while thinking over what my mom and dad had said. By the time I had the pie in the oven and the cookie batter chilling in the fridge, Jasper was home. He was surprised to find me in the kitchen rather than in the studio.

"Mmmmm. Smells good. What are you making?"

"Comfort food," I quietly admitted.

He stood behind me and wrapped me in his arms, placing his lips behind my ear and kissing down my neck. I could feel him inhale as his nose traced my hairline.

"Swimming today. Talk to me, Edward."

I shook my head, but he stopped the slight motion by massaging my scalp with his fingertips. Between kisses across my neck, he spoke in a soothing tone. "Don't keep it in. Don't try to work it out yourself. I'm your partner, remember."

I turned to face him, burying my face in his neck and drinking in his calming scent. My actions were more desperate than I intended them to be, but it felt so good to be next to him. If I could have, I would have crawled inside him.

"You're scaring me, Edward."

Finally, I pulled back and looked at the fear on his face. "Don't worry. I'm sorry I made you worry. It's just…"

"Shhh. Just hold onto me, baby. I've got you." He pulled me tight and rubbed his hands up and down my back as he placed kisses across exposed skin. When the buzzer went off, I quickly switched gears and put supper on the table. Jasper talked to me about his day as we ate, spending more time on the negative aspects of his day than normal. It was as if he didn't want to rub in that he loved his job, but I knew he did. I was glad he did.

While he washed and put away the supper dishes, I quickly scooped chilled dough onto cookie sheets and baked two trays at a time in the convection oven. As I put the last cookie on the cooling rack, Jasper returned from wiping down the dining room table.

"I think you need to get out of the house, get away from this place for a bit," Jasper definitively spoke. He was right. Despite getting to the coffeehouse nearly every day, I went there for one specific reason—inspiration. I went everywhere looking for something to spark my creativity, but nothing worked. Perhaps getting away, setting the proverbial pencil down for a while, would be good for me.

"What did you have in mind?" I said as I took a bite of a warm, gooey cookie.

As Jasper reached for a sweet, he simply said, "Dancing."

Dancing had become something we both enjoyed doing more and more. Jasper was now comfortable in a gay club and no longer hesitated like he had when I first took him to Eclipse the prior year. He was usually the first to start dancing, and he'd drag me out to the floor, touching me and pulling me close to his body.

It was the perfect thing for my current mood. Neither of us took any time to get ready aside from brushing our teeth. Without even ordering a drink, Jasper led me to the dance floor. We'd hardly been dancing at all when he pulled me to the back room. I was surprised. Not that we were strangers to the back room, but if we headed there, it was usually after copious amounts of alcohol and so much grinding on the dance floor we couldn't wait for the cab ride home. Going back to that room sober was a new experience.

He pushed me against the wall in the darkened room and kissed me, only staying on my mouth for a minute before he proceeded down my neck. His hot mouth covered my chest as quickly as he could unbutton my shirt, and soon, he teased my stomach and hips with gentle nips. After opening and pushing my pants aside, he engulfed my hard cock in his mouth. Tangling my fingers through his hair, I thrust into his mouth and watched as blue eyes looked up at me with a glint of mischief. He kneaded my ass, and I finally allowed myself to close my eyes and enjoy the sensation, even if we were in a public place.

The sound of the bass was steadily streaming into the room and accompanying the groans and grunts around us. When I opened my eyes, I saw a man staring at us. He slipped a condom on and slid into a short, dark-haired twink who urged him on. I watched where they were joined together and felt myself getting close.

Pulling Jasper up to my face, I kissed him and then spun him to face the wall. I lifted his tight T-shirt up to his shoulders and ran my lips down his spine, tasting his salty skin. Quickly, I had his pants down to his knees and bent him forward. He arched his back, showing me exactly what he wanted. Hastily, I sheathed myself, lubed up, and pressed into him. I thrust my hips forward and felt him push back meeting me.

"That's right. Fuck me hard," he spoke over his shoulder.

He enveloped me, his tight, hot ass gripping me in a protective embrace. I leaned across his back, my nipples rubbing against his heated skin.

"I love you, Jasper. Thanks for this."

My hips slammed into his ass, and I felt the rumble of his voice against my chest. He goaded me on with his words, and his hips rolled back to meet mine in a most provocative dance. This was all about me and what I needed, and he was willing to do that for me.

Trailing my hands up his chest, over his shoulders and down his back, I worshipped his body, attempting to transmit my appreciation. When I stood and studied his form, my desire overwhelmed all romantic thoughts.

There was nothing more tempting than Jasper sticking his ass in the air—the slope of his back, the curve of his muscles. I parted his ass and watched myself slide in and out of his oh-so-willing body. His cheeks bounced with each thrust, and I couldn't help my fingers from digging into his flesh or my palm from slapping it. He was beautiful.

"Kiss me while I make you come," I demanded.

Reaching for his bouncing cock, I wrapped my fingers around him. I angled my hips so I'd hit his prostate and furiously began to stroke him. His lips met mine as often as he could. Every so often he'd have to pull away to catch his breath, but he'd always come back.

"Oh Edward. I'm gonna come. Fuck. Kiss me."

I covered his mouth with mine, and his tongue darted in. His warmth fluttered against the tip of my tongue as his ass started to squeeze and tighten around me in pleasurable waves.

I poured all of my insecurities and doubts, my fears and shames, my anger and disillusionment into him. But mostly, I gave him my love.

"How did you know?" I asked after I crashed over the edge.

"Know what?" I heard his muffled response.

With a great deal of effort, I stood and slid myself from him. As I tossed the condom away and buttoned my fly, Jasper turned to face me. I slid his pants over his ass, tucked him away, and fastened his pants. As I buttoned my shirt up, he kissed me, burying his hands in my hair.

"Know what I needed," I prompted.

"That's part of the being your partner. And while I know public sex isn't something you do a lot, I know you enjoy it when you're stressed." He gestured around the room, and it all came back to me—the sights, the sounds, and even the smells. All of a sudden, I wanted to get out, and fast. Jasper must've had the same reaction because he grabbed my hand and headed toward the door only to be stopped by a tank of a guy with orange hair.

"I want to fuck you," he said, poking Jasper in the chest, "Jasper." He finished in a simpering voice. That's when I realized he knew Jasper from porn. The look on the man's face was like everyone else's who'd confronted him or pointed and whispered—excitement and shock followed by lust.

Jasper tried to bypass him and go out the door, but the meathead blocked his way with his freckled pipe of an arm. The veins were so large they could probably be used as straws in a thick smoothie. Gross.

I held onto Jasper's hand and placed my other on his forearm so he'd feel my presence. He stepped back into the room and looked right at the guy, who was no taller than either of us.

"How 'bout you step the fuck away from the door so my boyfriend and I can leave, you over-'roided ginger fuck?"

I wanted to cheer; I was so happy to see him standing up for himself and not taking this sort of confrontation sitting down.

The last time I'd seen someone recognize Jasper was in the coffeehouse, and he'd denied who he was. Zoë moved the guy along but not before I excused myself on the pretense that I had to pee. Instead, I actually headed outside and followed the guy down the block to catch up with him. I wanted to know why Jasper seemed to be so popular all of a sudden. Why hadn't this happened before? When he saw me, he looked up and down the street nervously. I grabbed my chin and followed his gaze when I realized he was mostly likely fearing me and my near-Grizzly-Adams beard. I smiled, which I knew dramatically softened my look, and asked him how he knew of Jasper's video.

"I'm not really sure," he said dumbly.

"Well, how did you find out about him?" I asked, trying to remain patient and polite.

"I saw the video on one of the RSS feeds I get, but a few of my friends found his video on some free porn site."

I absorbed what he said and put the pieces together. If Jasper's video was being linked all over the Internet and emailed from friend to friend, his face would become recognizable to more people as his popularity went up. His image was no longer viewed by just subscribers to the _Broke Straight Dudes_ website. Now, it was free and passed around to friends with a few clicks of a mouse. At least now it made sense.

"Okay. Well, thanks for answering my questions. One favor, just let Jasper live his life in peace. The last thing he needs is to be reminded of that, so if you see him again, just keep it to yourself. Oh, and don't go blabbing to your friends either. Please." I gave him a pleading look and refused to drop my gaze until he saw how sincere I was.

"I'm sorry. Honestly." I believed him so I headed back and joined Jasper who sat beside Zoë. I admitted to Jasper that I'd talked to the guy and relayed what I found out. It was something that had been bothering me, and since I was rarely there when he was confronted, I had to take my opportunity. He was grateful I found out what little information I had.

Luckily, it seemed Jasper's popularity fell to a degree, so I was surprised when he was stopped by the veiny arm that was now slowly being lowered. I glared at the orange-haired guy and saw him shrink back when a low growl involuntarily came from my chest.

Back on the dance floor we danced some, but I was exhausted. Taking into consideration Jasper had to get up for work early, I said I needed some sleep. So in the end, we basically went to a club to dance for about three songs and fuck.

Overall, a very good night.

The rest of December passed more smoothly. No, I didn't miraculously get a job offer, but I no longer held all my hopes in one hand and waited on someone to "save" me. I decided I needed to more seriously consider what my father and mother talked to me about. How could I make money doing what I loved without someone hiring me?

On the outside, things may have appeared the same, but internally, my mind raced. It was a huge paradigm shift, and characteristically, I considered every angle. When Jasper would get home from work, I'd often be at my desk or somewhere else in the studio staring off in the distance, lost in my thoughts. I'd usually find him leaning against the doorjamb staring at me.

I was always glad when he came home because it gave me the respite from my thoughts I needed. Not that I was miserable, but occasionally, I'd get going down a track and have to work out all the pros and cons before I could really move forward. Of course, that regularly led me to tributaries and branches I hadn't considered before and helped me make some really good choices. More than anything, I just wanted to make it to the ocean so I could float on the water with my muse for a while, but there was an awful lot of forest to study before I could get there.

When Jasper would arrive and bring me out of my reverie, I'd get supper on the table while he changed into more comfortable clothes. It was such a domestic role I'd taken on. I loved cooking for him and making sure he got out the door on time in the morning. In fact, I found I thrived as a househusband. I didn't even mind doing laundry while I worked in the studio. The monotony of folding didn't hinder me from thinking. It may have even helped. At least when I was finished, I had a basket of folded clothes that was proof I'd done something.

Between baking bread and grocery shopping, I did have time to research some options to help me realize my dreams. Even as I baked Christmas cookies and delivered them to our friends, family, and the friendly new neighbor who regularly brought us muffins, I continued to further work things out.

Thank goodness we continued to go out on a consistent basis. Our double-dates with Zoë and Xander often ended with epic stories we'd share when in larger groups. We always laughed so much with them, and I could see why Jasper had such a strong connection with Zoë. She was insightful and knew how to read people, sometimes making sure we were seated in a great server's section or helping smooth things over if they didn't go well. There was little that got by her, and she knew I was struggling with work, or rather not working. Instead of telling Jasper what she observed, she talked to me and tried to be there in any way I needed. That occasionally meant she'd meet me for coffee during the day, slipping me a rock to help with my inspiration or creativity. Once, I even went with her to hold her hand while Xander worked on a large piece she was having inked on her back. We were becoming very close, and when Jasper noticed, he was beyond happy about it. Considering Zoë was someone I once thought was sleeping with Jasper, we'd come a very long way.

#

Christmas Eve morning dawned, and we were able to wake up slowly in each other's arms. We didn't do that nearly as often as we used to, our lives directing us in ways that were new since the harsh reality of life had pushed aside the leisurely mornings of college. In the past, he was the early riser, but now, it had equaled out, and I awoke before him just as often. Luckily, he remained sleeping behind me.

I backed up into Jasper, feeling his flaccid cock nestled against my ass. His arms tightened automatically around me as our skin touched. Keeping my eyes closed, I felt and heard his breathing behind me. I traced along and in between his fingers, kissing the pad of each finger on his right hand. I could even feel his pulse against my back.

Something about that moment made me want to remember it. I felt protected in his embrace … supported. Without the security that he gave me, I would've never gotten through the few months prior.

Warm lips moved against my shoulder, and he pulled me tighter. "Morning. How'd you sleep?" he asked with a long stretch of his body, and I felt his cock wake up with the sensation.

I turned to face him and trailed my thumb over his cheekbone before kissing his sleep swollen lips. "I slept well. You?"

"After what you did to me last night, how could I not sleep well," he reminisced with a smirk.

"Mmm, it certainly wore us both out."

Jasper settled on my chest, wrapping his legs around mine in our familiar, linked way. As the sole of his foot rested on the top of mine, he slowly started to rub it. We took our time, getting lost in thought and talking about random topics as we woke. His fingers skirted over the skin of my sides, my hip, my stomach.

As he talked to me about breakfast, he took me in hand and leisurely started to stroke me. There was no hurry or rush in his actions as he talked about how I'd like my eggs. My breathing had picked up but his movements remained steady. Talk of food continued, but I was unable to pay attention to the conversation, agreeing to everything he said.

Yes, keep touching me.

Yes, keep talking.

Yes, keep breathing across my chest.

He knew he was affecting me, but he didn't speed his hand for a moment. His slow and steady assault continued, and I sensed my orgasm coming closer and closer to me in waves.

The tide was coming in, and when he pulled my nipple into his hot mouth, I could finally see it. He sucked and slid the tip of his tongue against my hardened flesh.

When he bit down, my body curled forward in a rush, ripples of pleasure coursing through my entire body.

I swear I saw stars.

Jasper's lips meeting mine brought me back to reality, and I realized he was talking in an amused voice, obviously enjoying what he could do to my body in a matter of minutes.

"I'm gonna make breakfast. In fact, it'll be ready in a jiffy. Get in the shower while I cook." He took off for the kitchen with energy while I headed to the bathroom, fully spent and sated.

Leaning against the sink, I caught my breath. When I saw myself in the mirror, I rubbed my hand over my thick beard. I no longer liked it. It looked like I was hiding from something. I hadn't shaved since Emmett and Rosalie's wedding, and it was time for something new. Reaching for my beard trimmer, I turned it on and then saw Jasper's head pop around the corner.

"Hey, don't shave, okay?" he asked. I looked at him oddly but nodded before jumping in the shower.

Before long, we were eating eggs, sausage, and toast in the studio with a centerpiece of red and creme tulips. We sat on the warm rug around the coffee table sipping on mimosas and enjoying the fire. My mom had talked us into spending extra money for a three-sided firebox, which now pumped heat into the entire space, and I had been grateful for it on more than one occasion.

As we ate, we talked about how we were going to spend the day and both agreed we wanted to play it by ear and just be together. After the breakfast dishes were put away, Jasper asked if he could sketch me sitting at my desk.

"I just want you to sit and think—like you've been doing in the afternoons when I get home."

It took me a few moments to get comfortable in my chair, and I decided to turn toward the fire while Jasper situated himself on the stairs that led into the studio. My eyes met the flames; hands lay on my lap. I did what I'd been doing most days … I thought. Initially, I thought about my empty hand and wondered where the skeleton key was. Had someone found it in Venice? It didn't take long before I lost myself and forgot about Jasper sketching me. My gaze dropped to my fingers, and I studied how the shadow and light played across the lines and creases. Conclusions were even reached as I sat in repose.

The small "Thank you, Edward" from across the room was the only indication he gave me that he was done. When I stood and tried to look at his work, he said it was only partially completed and that there was a second part. I quirked my head at him and teased him for being secretive as he led me into the house.

"The bathroom. Sit on the counter, please. I'll be right there." His voice was businesslike, and I moved to take my place. He was silent as he set his art supplies aside and opened the linen closet. Jasper draped a towel across my chest and then reached into the cabinet and pulled out my beard trimmer, shaving mug, brush, and razor.

"I've shaved you. I guess this is only fair," I teased. "All you had to say was you didn't like it, and I would've shaved a long time ago."

"I didn't say I didn't like it. In fact, I do like it, but I think it's time for you to make a change you can see. I'm going to help you do that. All right?" he asked. As if I was going to say no.

He placed both hands on the counter beside my hips and leaned forward, his eyes closing. I thought he wanted a kiss, so I closed mine as well, waiting for his lips to meet mine. Instead, I felt his cheekbone against my left side, his breath washing across my ear. One last time. He was enjoying the feel of his face against mine just as he had in Italy. Slowly, he caressed my jaw, his hands eventually joining in the sensual feel. His lips never met mine as he explored. It was only when he'd worked his way to my right ear that he finally allowed himself a taste of my skin.

"Are you ready?" His words were soft in my dazed state.

I nodded and heard the buzz of the trimmer. It didn't take long before I felt lighter, sensing more of his breath wash across me. He pulled the towel off of me and gently brushed a clean corner against my face.

"Damn, Edward. You're sexy with a little scruff." He kissed from one ear, down my jaw, across my chin, and up to the other, enjoying the scratch of my stubble. Then he stepped forward and got back to his task.

He wet my face with a warm, wet cloth that he left in place for a few moments. Anxiously, I watched as he ran the brush under hot water and whipped the shaving soap into a rich lather. In circular motions, he applied the soap and made my remaining whiskers ready to be cut. As he moved the blade down my face for the first time, I was nervous. There was no need to be, I realized, as I watched his face. His blue eyes were serious with concentration. I watched as he worked his mouth. He licked his lips, pulling the bottom one in his mouth for a moment before it slid across his upper teeth. As he got closer to my chin and the shaving became less straight forward, he chewed or pursed his pink flesh in single-mindedness. On occasion, his tongue would peek out as he ran it along his teeth.

It was all I could do to not attack him. But I didn't want to be nicked, so I stayed perfectly still, content in watching the show of perfect pink lips play out in front of me. The only thing that moved was my dick as it snaked down my pants leg growing thicker and longer.

I followed all his directions so he could give me a good, clean shave and waited as he re-wet the soft wash cloth. He wiped the remaining soap from my over-sensitive skin. It felt so strange to have a naked face again. Jasper even put my aftershave balm on my face for me. Only then, did he sit on the closed lid of the toilet and begin to sketch.

"Just sit back and relax, Edward," he encouraged. I did, my eyes closing to the harsh bathroom lights. The sound of his pencil on the paper fibers filled the room, coexisting with his soft breaths and lulling me into something very near sleep. I roused when he pressed his lips against mine. "Mmm. Your skin is…. Damn, I missed your smell."

"What do you mean? I smell the same," I retorted.

He shook his head and ran his nose under my cheekbone to my temple. "Nope. Without the shaving balm, you were just minty. Now, you're more."

I couldn't help but laugh and was happy to feel his mouth on mine again without the sensations being muted by my beard.

I stood and looked in the mirror, and my thoughts from earlier in the day had been transformed. As my hand smoothed over my skin, I saw the same man that walked into his senior show feeling confident he could talk to anyone, including professors, people in the art community, and prospective employers. I'd just let him get buried behind a beard.

In the afternoon, we bundled up and decided to take a walk, ending up in Volunteer Park. It was wintry, but we didn't let that stop us from spending time outdoors. At Noguchi's _Black Sun_, Jasper and I each stood on a side of the sculpture and looked at each other through the hole in the center of the large stone circle. Behind Jasper I could see the Space Needle and over my shoulder was the Seattle Asian Art Museum. It was there that we stood and talked, leaning against the cold, black granite.

Our conversation ceased, but we remained, chilly but unwilling to break eye contact.

Suddenly, the clouds overhead split open and intense rays landed on Jasper. The light behind him was doing amazing things, and I had to draw him at that exact moment. I couldn't let the sun hide away and miss that moment. Luckily, I had my sketchbook and a pencil in the large pocket of my coat.

"Be still," I told him as I rapidly found my things and tried to find a suitable surface to draw on.

The way he had his face turned, his profile, his curls escaping his knit beanie, his chin, and neck against his scarf … it was quintessential Jasper. If I could just be given enough time with the sun to pencil in the shading around his perfect lips, I'd be thrilled.

The sun stayed, and I was able to get what I needed. Yes, needed, not wanted. I needed to have that image of Jasper and those few moments to spend with my muse, who had revealed herself to me again.

When I saw Jasper shiver, I knew we had to get him warm, so I wrapped my arms around him and rubbed up and down his back, trying to will some of my warmth into him.

"Edward, I'm not really that cold."

"Are you sure?"

"Let's just walk, and I'll warm up. Come on," he encouraged, offering his hand to me.

Sure enough, we both warmed as we walked the several blocks home. He pushed our joined hands into his pocket, unwilling to let me go even to warm his chilled fingers.

We walked in silence, listening to the muted sounds of winter around us. Our street came into view as the sun fully broke through the cloud cover, making the snow sparkle and shimmer. It would be dark soon, but again, the light was doing sublime things to Jasper. I quickly ran in the house to grab my camera and took a few photos of him before turning the camera on us both, attempting to get a shot or two of us together.

"I think we need a fire," I stated with a smile. "How about we share our sketches over some hot cider?"

"Sounds perfect."

We heated some cider and headed to the studio, sitting on the daybed before the fire. At the same moment, we passed each other our drawings. It was silent in the room as we studied the images.

He'd divided his sketch paper in two. On the left was me looking pensive and … sad. I hadn't felt sad. Thoughtful, certainly. But I could see where someone would think I was depressed or down. More than anything, I could see loss in his sketch. The look on my face was one of searching for something one couldn't see. The lines I was looking at on my hands certainly weren't telling me the answers.

On the right side, Jasper drew me with my face shaved clean, the tools of shaving beside me as I rested with my eyes closed. There was a serenity that was completely absent from the other sketch even though I sat looking at the fire, appearing relaxed.

"It's beautiful, babe," I spoke as I wrapped my fingers inside his palm. "It says so much."

I looked down at his sketch that now rested on the coffee table, the light reflecting off the snow outside making the room quite bright. The difference between the two images he drew was startling to me. When I tried to figure things out with no assistance, I looked and felt forlorn, but when I allowed Jasper in … when I allowed him to help me, I was at peace.

"Jasper?" I turned to look at him straight on. I didn't want my message to be missed by shadow or because my face was in profile or even because of hair on my forehead. Pushing my hair back, I reached for him. "I'll let you take care of me. I know you've wanted to, and I've been resisting, at least in part. But I want you to know I want you to support me, and I'll let you." It wasn't nearly as hard to say as I expected it to be.

He buried his face in my neck and held me tight to him. I couldn't help but pull him in closer.

"I get it, Edward. I really understand how you feel and how hard that was for you. But we're partners. We need to share the good and bad. Right now, you're just in a bad spot. This is my time to help carry you. God knows, you've carried me."

"We're there for each other."

"Yes, we certainly are. There's only one thing," he said as he gestured toward my sketch.

"You're gonna give me a god complex if you keep drawing me like this."

I laughed, looking down at the image. He certainly had a divine quality in my sketch, much like what I drew at the Trevi Fountain that now hung in the studio. Glancing over to the older drawing and back to the new, I saw what Jasper noticed.

I gave a non-committal shrug and said, "When you have a stunning boyfriend, he just looks like a god in every sketch. I draw what I see, Jasper."

Pushing him onto his back, I kissed his mouth between his laughs. We settled into relaxed conversation and long moments of contented silence. After the sun set, we turned on twinkle lights both in and outside the house. Jasper put on our favorite cheesy Christmas music, including The Ray Conniff Singers. The studio was beautiful with the tree and lights reflecting in all the windows. We'd both changed into pajama pants and thin shirts before we sipped more hot cider and exchanged gifts.

Jasper made sure we had a new journal to replace the brown leather one, now filled with our notes and quick sketches. The new one was red leather, bought while we were in Italy. We paged through the old book and were reminded of things we'd forgotten—small arguments or misunderstandings that were easily resolved—but also bigger issues that seemed to be covered again and again through words and art. Foremost among them were Jasper's concern about being recognized for porn and how it would affect us as well as my lack of direction and sense of loss. On the first page of the new, red journal, Jasper and I drew a sketch together; each added bits to make the whole. It was an image of us walking hand in hand down a heavily wooded path.

Jasper tore the wrapping on the small box I'd placed in shiny red paper. When he saw the unmistakable blue box with black writing, he paused for a moment and looked at me with hesitation.

"Don't worry, Jasper. I'm not going to get down on one knee or anything," I reassured.

He gingerly lifted the lid. I watched as his eyes lit up and a wide smile spread across his face. "Edward. It's beautiful and perfect." He gently removed the Paloma Picasso pendant from the Tiffany box and hefted it, feeling the substantial weight of the sterling silver. Jasper held the long pendant in his fingers and stroked the bold geometric shapes that were pressed into the silver and antiqued.

"Just a little something for you to wear at work that reminds you of me," I shyly explained.

"You see how the trapezoids hint at octagons?" I asked. He agreed. "Well, it reminded me of the labyrinth and octagons symbolize renewal or regeneration. In the last year, you've grown so much, and we basically started our relationship all over again. I know that's a lot to put into a tiny necklace, but that's what I thought of when I saw it." Jasper wrapped me in his arms and thanked me again and again.

After many kisses, he handed me a flat box that was very light. Inside was an envelope that I eagerly opened. When I read the paper, Jasper shifted nervously beside me.

"It's so you can meet with a consultant and get something up and running for your art." He hesitated. "Listen, I know it's not something tangible … yet. But I spoke with Elizabeth, and she actually suggested this guy. He's helped many artists market themselves and become successful. You're still in charge, but this will help you with the business end of things."

I was overwhelmed and didn't know how to respond.

"Hey, I don't want you to feel upset about this." He was worried he'd over stepped a boundary.

"No, love. It's not that at all. I've recently been thinking about how to sell my work and trying to find a way to make it happen. This is one of the most valuable gifts I could've ever gotten. Thank you for knowing me so well."

I told him about all my thoughts concerning my work as he held me close and carded his fingers through my hair. We fell asleep curled up on the daybed together.

When Jasper headed back to work for the last week of the year, he slipped his pendant on and unfastened the first few buttons on his shirt. It looked great against his smooth chest and the way he kept fingering the silver let me know he truly appreciated his gift. Elizabeth admired it at work as well and told Jasper to make sure he told me I had great taste.

"I'm an artist, after all. I'd better know how to pick out well-designed jewelry," I joked with her when I saw her at a holiday work party. I'd been nervous to attend with Jasper but found I fit in really well with everyone. We had much in common, and I easily fell into conversations that steered toward design and art. A few people gave Jasper approving looks when I'd speak, knowing their language and being able to keep up with them no matter how technically they spoke. Terry, his team leader, joked that Jasper was hiding me away. In the end, I made some contacts that could be beneficial for my work. More importantly, however, I was able to meet the people with whom Jasper spent his days.

When he kissed me or held my hand, no one gave us a second look. He was out and proud at work. On our drive home, I asked him about being so open with his sexuality on the job.

"Edward, the last thing I'll ever do is get back in that closet. The one person I was worried about has decided to wash his hands of me. If I never speak with my father again, that'll be fine. But his beliefs and fear kept me in the closet. The moment I realized that, the walls just disintegrated. Plus … well, if I can be a role model for someone, I want to be a good one, like Aro was for you."

I stared at him for as long as I could before I had to get my eyes back on the road. To think of the scared man who sat across from me at the coffeehouse fifteen months prior and told me he thought he was gay … I honestly had a hard time reconciling him with the secure man that sat beside me.

"It didn't hurt to have Elizabeth be so accepting of me during my internship," he admitted, placing his palm on my thigh. "And I want the world to know about you."

I was speechless.

That night as I made love to him, I celebrated the man he'd become—confident and assured. I attempted to grasp onto that essence and envelop myself in its protective feel. Wrapping me in his arms, I could feel where we were linked.

He loved me.

I was safe.

We were connected.

* * *

**Edit 3/8/2012**


	37. Threads

**Threads**

"Have a great day, love. Oh, how do apple turnovers sound for dessert tonight?"

Jasper's face lit up, and he kissed me. "That sounds perfect. You know how I love apples. Can't wait. Love you."

As he turned to walk away, I pulled him back to me, my lips passing across his in tender kisses. I didn't want to let him go, but as my thumb ran over the textured surface of the pendant resting on his chest, I found my resolve and released him.

"I love you too. Good luck on the presentation today."

I stood on the porch, watching him drive away. It was a typical morning for us now. Stepping over the Whitlock Cullen doormat, I headed into the house to shower and get dressed to start my workday.

Once the holidays had passed and Jasper got back to his job, my productivity exploded. More than scruff had been shaved away on Christmas Eve. It was as if my doubts and insecurities had been stripped as well. I felt like I'd been given a new start.

My routine changed some. While I'd still make Jasper breakfast and kiss him on his way out the door, I now headed to the coffeehouse soon after he left. The morning crowd offered me a more relaxed atmosphere to work. I had my favorite booth which allowed me to overlook the entire room. At times, I'd get inspiration from customers' conversations or their non-verbal interactions.

So many ideas came to me that I was very thankful for the Moleskine® journals Jasper had given me for graduation. I'd jot down a few words beside the pre-printed cells on the pages to remind me of my ideas. Back at home after I'd eaten lunch, I'd flesh out the ideas and start to sketch. I was still househusband extraordinaire, putting effort and energy into cooking, and was able to make dinner most nights.

On a very cold, windy January day, I met with Levi, the marketing consultant whose office was near Jasper's. I brought my newly reworked portfolio and a few journals I'd recently filled with ideas. Levi was very interested in my work and disclosed he was gay after he saw several of my images and realized my art surrounded the lives of a gay couple. Perhaps it wasn't politically correct to be excited about that, but I honestly was. It was my hope he'd be able to help me find appropriate venues for my work, and being gay made him more aware of those business opportunities. Our meeting lasted a little over an hour, and I left with a list of things I could work on in the weeks before our next meeting.

When I met Jasper for lunch, I felt as if I fit in with the business professionals this time. My charcoal sport coat and casual slacks didn't stick out like my T-shirt and torn jeans had a month prior. Jasper sat across from me with an amused smile on his face as I told him about my meeting with Levi. I simply couldn't contain my excitement, nor did I want to. For the first time in months, I was truly energized.

At home that evening, I didn't even hear Jasper come in the studio until he cleared his throat behind me. I'd completely forgotten about cooking supper, having gotten so absorbed in drawing.

"We're going out," he announced. "We need to celebrate the return of your muse."

I didn't argue.

We ended up at a bar and grill that was close by. Jasper made a toast to inspiration, and we easily got lost in our conversation. When I returned from a quick trip to the bathroom, I found a man sitting across from Jasper in my seat, so I scooted into the booth beside Jasper. The man stared at me as if I'd just interrupted something very private when Jasper introduced me as his partner, seeming to purposefully leave out my name. Moments later, the man left the booth without a word.

"What was that about?" I wondered.

"He just recognized me," Jasper shared with a slow shake of his head. "It's happening again; more people buttonholing me. Someday, I'm sure I won't be recognized, but geez! What if that had happened when I was out to lunch with Elizabeth last week? I could lose my job."

I tried my best to reassure him. There was little I could offer him besides my empathy and an ear whenever he needed one.

As it turned out, his popularity on the Internet was increasing again for whatever reason. Perhaps another blog had discovered his video or maybe the site had even put him back on the front page as Valentine's Day neared. It was as if he'd been rediscovered, and any time we were around gay men, someone would inevitably ask him if he'd done porn. Living in Capitol Hill certainly made going out anywhere a challenge.

Jasper started to suggest staying at home more often, skipping out on gathering with friends so he wouldn't have to deal with his "infamy." The fear I sensed from him was more than concerning, and I didn't hide my feelings. I couldn't force him to go out, but hiding away wasn't healthy.

After one particularly close call during a lunch hour at work, Jasper decided he needed to do something about his anxiety, so he started seeing Dr. Victor again. I knew he felt as if he'd taken a huge step backward, but I saw it as progress.

"Maybe there's something Dr. Victor can suggest," I encouraged as he regretfully left for his appointment.

After his first few sessions back, Dr. Victor asked Jasper to consider telling Elizabeth about his past so if it ever did come up, it wouldn't be such a shock to her and lead to his possible firing. Even though Dr. Victor and I didn't think she would fire Jasper over that, he remained unconvinced. Willingly revealing that part of himself was something Jasper had a very hard time even thinking about. His body would physically shudder when he spoke of it. Elizabeth was a mentor to him, and the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint her.

"I need someone out there in the world that I look up to who doesn't know my dirty laundry. I don't want her to lose respect for me, Edward. I have to find another way to feel like I have some control over this, even though I never really will."

Despite his trepidation, Jasper pushed himself to go out and associate with our friends again. When he was confronted, he would try to divert people with humor, but the first time a woman addressed him, he was more than surprised and barely stammered out a response. I engaged the woman, asking her if she liked watching two men together. Okay, I'll admit I was drunk, and when she said yes, I attacked Jasper's mouth and kissed him until she realized we were done talking to her. He didn't have to respond to her any further, and no one bothered him for the rest of the night. After that, I stepped up my involvement whenever he was confronted, in part, because he seemed to need me more.

That worried me as well.

#

On January thirty-first, I finally launched my website. I had worked hard at designing a site that was not only visually appealing but also made my art the focal point. Jasper helped me work on the branding, even lending his typography skills to me. I had a store where I sold some original pieces, but more than anything, I wanted to publicize my comic strip, _Nathaniel & Aiden_. That was my baby, and my goal was to add something new three times a week.

At the coffeehouse in the mornings, I noticed hearts and cupids scattered around. Love was in the air, mixed with the hope of connecting with another and finding your soul mate. I'd found mine, and each night as we held each other, trailing fingers through hair and releasing steamy breath against skin, I was reassured how right Jasper was for me.

When Jasper invited me to his office for lunch one day, I was finally privy to his workspace. Right there on his desk for everyone to see, were three photos of us in a simple, black triptych frame. All were intimate poses—from us as teenagers with our arms thrown around each other while sitting in a red row boat, to the photo we took in front of our house on Christmas Eve during the sunset, to one of us kissing that Alice had candidly taken. Right in front of the frame was copper wire that was molded and shaped into one of his beautiful fonts. "My Love" it read. As my fingers skimmed the photos and the letters, Jasper whispered behind me, "I think I love you more every single day."

Perhaps Cupid was just working his magic. Obviously, we had both been pierced by his arrows.

Jasper insisted on cooking for me on Valentine's Day and wanted the menu to be a surprise. "You cook for me all the time. It's about time I cook for you. Plus, I have to try to make up for last year." He mumbled his last sentence.

"Hey, you don't have to make up for anything, but if you want to cook, I'm happy to eat whatever you make."

He set the dining table with our favorite flowers in a low arrangement so we could look over and easily see each other. Over several courses, we ate leisurely, talking about how much we'd overcome in the previous year. The food was delicious, but I was more focused on him than what was on my plate, to be honest. As I poured a third glass of wine for both of us, Jasper headed for the kitchen to plate the dessert. He'd bought white chocolate raspberry cheesecakes, and we fed each other tiny bites. I could see the lust in his eyes as he watched my lips slide across the tines of his fork. He was as worked up as I was.

We left our dessert barely touched.

I was nervous as we undressed, and I kept my pants on as long as he would allow. Earlier in the day, I had rummaged through my drawers and found the pair of underwear I'd bought months prior and hidden away. Valentine's Day seemed as if it was the most appropriate occasion for me to wear them, if there ever was one. Despite my reservations, I wore them. Once he started to unbutton my fly, I visibly tensed, but he never looked down.

As we fell onto our bed, our hands covered nearly every square inch of bared skin in minutes. When my pants were kicked off, he still didn't look down. We were both desperate for each other, anxious to be joined. The heat of his breath spread across my skin as he kissed down my neck and chest sending trails of pleasure coursing through my limbs. I watched as he teased my nipples and biceps and hipbones. His eyes remained closed while his wet mouth kissed up my inner thighs, and as he finally kissed over my underwear, he froze.

"What the fuck, Edward?" He sat up on his knees and looked down. His fingers hesitantly reached for the black fabric, skimming over the pouch I was now straining against, and traced the uneven edges that rested against my pale skin.

Looking up at me, he smirked unadulterated sex and hotness.

"Lace?"

I just nodded and bit my lip, feeling more unsure as his silence continued. Bending over me, he ran his lips over the soft fabric. The moist air from his mouth and nose easily penetrated the holes created by the lace as he worshipped the underwear. Attentively, he slid them down my legs and buried his nose in the material before dropping the lace to the floor.

"Those were hot, Edward. I'll need to see you in them again."

"I didn't know if you'd like them," I said as relief flooded me.

"What's not to like? Saturday, you're wearing those and nothing else … all day long. I need to see them on you from every single angle." His voice deepened with want as he traced around my swollen head.

Lowering himself again, he gently sucked on my balls and then swallowed my dick, burying his nose in my coarse curls. My breath caught in my chest at the intensity of his touch, and I didn't even register I was moaning until he looked up at me and smirked. Hell, if I was enjoying it, he may as well know. So I continued, letting him know each and every time he brought me new pleasure. As he lapped at my balls, I fisted his mop, but then he was gone. When I opened my eyes, I saw what he was about to do.

"Please," I begged.

Gently, he raised my hips and lowered his mouth to bite my ass. He licked me, and I couldn't help the curse words that fell from my lips. It was wet and decadent and felt absolutely amazing to have his mouth teasing my hole. All too quickly, it ended.

He'd worked me into a frenzy though, and I flipped him to his back and kissed him roughly, placing open mouth kisses and nips down his chest. Sucking him down my throat was just what I needed, and I didn't try to restrain him at all when he bucked into my mouth. Inhaling deeply, I breathed in his musky essence, causing saliva to flood my mouth. I returned the earlier favor to his balls and ass before I reached for the bedside table to retrieve a condom and lube. Just as I was about to open the condom, Jasper confiscated it from me and threw it on the floor.

"What? Don't you want me to make love to you?" I asked in confusion.

"Yes, I most certainly do, but not with that."

"But—"

"We're both clean, baby. How many times have we been tested? Four? Five?"

I help up five fingers as I looked down at his serious eyes. Just a few days prior, we'd gotten our most recent results.

"I want to feel every ridge and vein. I want to feel you … raw."

For a few moments, I just sat there, unsure of what to do. We'd talked about this before, but at that moment, the magnitude of the decision settled in my heart. Never before had I barebacked with anyone.

Jasper pulled me down to him, kissing over my mouth and across my jaw to my ear. "I want this with you, Edward." As he continued to tell me how badly he wanted to feel me, I lubed us up and teased his hole with my tip. "That's it. Oh God, it feels so good. You're skin is so soft."

I pulled back so we could look at each other and focus on expressions as I entered him for the first time without a condom. No matter how I tried to resist though, my eyes rolled into the back of my head. He felt amazing.

Snug. Warm. Sleek. Soft. Mine.

When I was able to open my eyes again, I saw the pure desire in Jasper's. He was as lost to the sensations as I was. His breathing was shallow as I pulled back and thrust into him again.

Fingers gripped the flesh of my ass, urging me forward. My hips rolled, and I adjusted to bring him the most pleasure I could. He looked as if he were being carried adrift, relaxed yet ready to ride the waves. As I pumped his ass, he clutched my hips with his legs but kept moving them higher. Tucking his knees to his chest, he slipped his feet over my shoulders, and I leaned over him, fucking his tight ass hard.

"Oh fuck. Harder," he begged. Resting all my weight on my palms and toes, I used gravity to deliver more power.

"Do you like me fucking you with my naked cock?" I was in heaven.

"Fuck yes. You feel amazing. Your cock was made for my ass."

All my focus was directed to my tip and the sensation of brushing up against that jewel inside of him until my arms started to scream at me, begging for rest. I settled back on my heels so I could touch him, stroke his hard dick. He only allowed me to pump him a few times before his feet dropped to the bed and he rolled me onto my back. There was no way I could keep from slipping from his perfect heat with the sudden move.

He adjusted his body as he kissed me again, and I heard the pop of the lube bottle opening and closing. Pulling back, Jasper knelt between my outstretched legs and stroked his cock. I watched him gingerly touching himself and working hard to calm his body down.

"You okay, love?" I asked, worried.

He looked in my eyes with determination. "Yeah. I don't want it to be over yet. That's all."

"It doesn't have to be."

Leaning over me, he brought his mouth to my temple and took several unsteady breaths. My hands eased down his back, attempting to calm him.

"I want you," he barely whispered. "I want all of you."

I kissed his shoulder and neck, biting his flesh.

"I'm already yours," I said as I bit his earlobe.

It was then that I felt the head of his cock teasing my entrance. I sucked in a quick breath at the realization and immediately tried to relax my body. I ached for him and had dreamed of this day for months.

"I love you, Edward."

I felt wetness at my temple. He was crying. Urging him to look at me, I tangled my fingers in his hair.

"Jasper, I love you. I trust you." I waited for him and wiped away his tears. A small smile covered his lips. "Make love to me. Please."

That's when I felt him push past the tight muscle. My body easily invited him in, but he took a few moments to just feel me from the inside, his eyes fluttering shut. As he started to move, I could feel the slightly uneven surface of his dick slide against me, the flare of his head increasing my pleasure. I wrapped all my limbs around him, pulling him tight to my chest, never wanting to let go.

I was chanting, pleading for more, and Jasper leaned back and threw my knees over his arms, thrusting hard and fast into me. Smirking, he asked, "How does it feel? You happy to have me back in your ass?"

My top was back.

I could only nod. He started fucking me with deep, forceful strokes, and I begged for him to go harder. Rather than hesitate, as I anticipated he would, his hips started to pound me. I cried out in pleasure, not holding back.

"Right there, love. Oh my God. Right there!"

I reached for myself, and my hand was soon covered by his. While I focused on my head, he concentrated on my shaft. I'd forgotten how mind-blowing bottoming could be. Fisting my hair with both hands, now, I felt Jasper jerk me off with expertise. As come ribboned out of me, my ass clenched his hard cock, and I felt him grow harder.

Then I sensed it—his come being pumped deep into my ass. The heat seemed to spread through me. Perhaps it was just my post-coital high that I felt, but whatever it was, it was fucking amazing.

Jasper pressed all his weight into my body, and I sighed at the feel. We lay there joined until his flaccid cock slipped from me. His breathing became sleepy in my ear. Without much difficulty, I was able to roll him off me so we could rest more comfortably, but as I shifted, I sensed it. I felt his seed leaving my body in a small trickle. When I whispered what was happening to me, Jasper turned toward me and slid a finger between my cheeks.

"Mmm. Does that feel good, Edward?"

I answered by arching my back and encouraging him to continue fingering me.

"You're a dirty boy."

"Damn right, I am," I agreed.

"Hang on. I'll get you cleaned up"

To my surprise, he used his tongue in soothing caresses, licking across the rise and fall of my ass. His kisses traveled up my back and across my neck before he bit me one more time in my favorite spot.

Jasper was the big spoon that night, and despite how blissfully relaxed we were, we talked for nearly two hours.

I was so thankful he was able to trust himself again. It didn't get past my powers of observation that it had been a year to the day since he topped. Perhaps he felt he'd paid his penance. Maybe he just craved it too badly to hold back. That's possible.

But I knew he made love to me because he knew I needed him to, and my needs had finally outweighed his fears.

#

Something strange happened to me professionally as the month of February moved into March. My website became inundated. I'd followed everything Levi suggested, and it was paying off … quickly. I even used some of the knowledge of RSS feeds and networking I gained when trying to determine the rise in Jasper's online popularity. Soon, my site was being blogged about, and the number of people subscribing to my daily feed expanded exponentially. I didn't even know if the statistics I received for my site could possibly be correct. If they were, thousands of people were reading my comic on a daily basis.

I was lucky I had a huge library of strips to fall back upon. As I drew for fun and relaxation the previous year, I never dreamed that _Nathaniel & Aiden_ would become more than just a personal indulgence. According to Levi, it could possibly be my ticket to my dream of syndication, so while I continued to work on my fine art, my comic was where I focused much of my time and energy. On top of that, I produced editorial cells when the mood struck. It wasn't a regular thing, but when something in the news wouldn't leave me alone, I'd draw and get it out of my system. Posting those on my site, always seemed to get a large response.

My daily routine truly worked well for me, and I kept it up as long as I could. On the weekends, I refused to work on anything unless it was for pleasure only. Jasper did everything in his power to keep work at the office as well. That was our time together as a couple, and neither of us was willing to sacrifice that.

While I knew my site alone wasn't going to make me a great deal of money, I put my heart and soul out there in hopes that someone with editorial or syndication power would see it. Levi insisted I contact anyone I worked with in the past, including people at the _Times_, so I sent some emails out, linking to my site and letting them know what I was up to. I sent samples of my work to various publications and syndicates as well.

In the mean time, I had to find a way to make some money, so when Dr. Banner called me and asked me to model for a class, I agreed. It wasn't a great deal of money, but he did give my name to several people, and I started getting calls on a regular basis from businesses. Modeling had always been Jasper's thing, so it was a new world to me outside of the classroom. When Masen Design needed help with quick mock-ups so they could get pre-approval from clients before working on their final designs, they frequently called me to be their "male body."

During one of the photo sessions at Masen, the photographer needed to photograph my feet. I had nice feet, but the knowledge that they were going to be photographed close up and the image would be blown up was intimidating. I didn't want my feet to be examined that closely.

Jasper heard I was in the building and entered the room as I reluctantly took off my socks. The minute I saw Jasper, I said, "Hey, Jasper has much nicer feet than I do. He could be a professional foot model. Photograph him."

If looks could kill, I would've been mortally wounded. After a few strained moments, Jasper relented and had his feet photographed. I'd always said he had the most beautiful feet.

Nearly the entire shoot, he was extremely tense. While the photographer was taking a quick look at the shots, Jasper muttered to me that he never wanted to make money modeling again and this certainly fit in that category. Guilt came crashing down for what I'd done. I apologized for throwing him under the bus and worked to make it right. We made sure he wouldn't get any cash for modeling and he'd take paid time off for the sixty minutes he was being photographed. It was ridiculous, but if he needed to never make money using his body again, then that was how it was going to be. Plain and simple.

I, however, continued to model occasionally for Masen Design, advertising agencies, and various classes throughout Seattle and was happy to bring home some money again. It also gave me the opportunity to feel as if I were making a contribution, however small it was. Though I wasn't creating, there was tangible work out there, images of me in brochures, ads, and student sketchbooks. It took time to get completely comfortable in front of a camera, and I developed a new appreciation for Jasper's previous modeling experience. Knowing I was relying on my face and body to make money, I became concerned over small cuts or blemishes. To think that Jasper had to contend with an entire back full of scars made me ache for him. I made sure each of those scars was kissed every night before he fell asleep.

Something I enjoyed using some of my money for was taking Jasper to some of the more upscale restaurants in the city. Unfortunately, during one of our meals, a very exuberant gay man recognized Jasper and was not terribly discrete about remarking on the source. A co-worker from Masen had been seated only a few tables away, and after that, the anxiety level in Jasper jumped dramatically. His appointments with Dr. Victor went back to a weekly schedule. A few times, I even attended with him. The co-worker never said a thing to Jasper, nor to anyone else, it seemed. That, however, didn't alleviate the worry.

It was during one of our joint sessions with Dr Victor that I brought up something Emmett and Rosalie had suggested to Jasper several months back. I didn't say it outright, but rather, I cryptically asked if he'd ever talked to Dr. Victor about it. No, he certainly hadn't, and the glare I got made me wish I could turn back time and keep my mouth shut.

But the cat was out of the bag, and as any good therapist would do, he encouraged Jasper to push himself and talk about the things that made him uncomfortable. I was thankful I was there as they discussed the pros and the cons of the odd idea. When Dr. Victor asked for more specific information, he was pleased he knew of Oliver, the man Emmett had recommended to us, and vouched for his professionalism.

#

On a sunny day in late April after Jasper had spent many minutes meditating in the center of the blooming tulip labyrinth in our backyard, we made our way downtown. It was tough, but we attempted to make ourselves comfortable in the foreign room.

"Are you sure about this? We don't have to do this at all. We can walk out that door and never look back," I reassured Jasper … or perhaps myself.

"I'm sure, but are you?" he asked as he scooted closer to me on the coffee colored comforter. I nodded and cradled his jaw in my hand.

We'd discussed this at length, for months in fact, even if some of those discussions had been far from serious and we realized we wouldn't honestly know how we felt until we were there in the middle of it. We had to give each other an out, just in case, but neither of us was taking it.

Both of us were naked in the warm room that was dark except for a soft light over the bed where we lay and two tall, narrow windows that let in natural light. Gauzy lengths of fabric in greens and blues hung from the ceiling, surrounding the bed, giving us the sense of being cocooned and safe.

"I'm positive, love. I want to do this for you. For us. Now, kiss me," I encouraged.

It was a slow and tender kiss. Nothing rushed or anxious. I leaned into him as his tongue twisted with my own. Every so often, the fabric would billow into our protective bubble on a breeze or draft carrying the slight material. The longer we kissed, the more we both seemed to lose sight of our surroundings.

We were silent as we worshipped each other's bodies, tasting and kissing down hardened muscles, fingers traveling over heated skin. When he took me in his hot mouth, I gasped and fisted his hair. He lavished me with depraved attention, licking around my head and massaging my balls with his mouth. Rolling me to my stomach, he teased my hole before plunging his tongue into my excited body. He worked me over, wrapping his lips around my puckered flesh and creating a delicate suction as his tongue continued to relax me.

Turning around, I began to suck him. He maneuvered me above him, urging me to sit on his face so he could continue tonguing my ass while I deep-throated his steel-hard cock. Both of us moaned, and we let go of our restraint, allowing our hips to thrust and grind.

I heard the unmistakable sound of lube being opened and looked to his hand. Jasper slid out from beneath me and sat behind my ass that I'd presented to him by moving to all fours. Warm, slick fingers pressed into my entrance and he fingered me, brushing my prostate a few times, just so he could hear me moan, I'm sure.

"You like that, don't you, Edward?"

A flutter of fabric sent a breeze over my sweaty skin.

"Yes, but you know what I really want."

Shadows passed over us, momentarily blocking the natural light.

"I sure do." He continued fingering me, and I pushed back wantonly. "On your back, baby," his whispered.

Soon, we were readjusted, and he was pressing the swollen head of his dick against me. My muscles spasmed in greeting before welcoming him in.

Ever since Valentine's Day, Jasper had been more than willing to top again. He still loved to bottom though. But those times when we both experienced it all—giving and receiving—overshadowed the moments when either of us felt locked into one role. We always felt more whole when we could bring pleasure to each other in a multitude of ways.

Jasper entered me, pushing in all the way, and then pulled out completely. He loved to tease my ass and watch as he entered me over and over. The sensation was sinful, and I smiled up at him as he slowly tortured me. Finally, I begged, and he gave me what I wanted—an intense, hard fuck.

As he thrust into me, his large hands under me and gripping my shoulders, I dragged my blunt nails down his back and then squeezed his ass. He knew how to make my body sing when he made love to me at home, and amazingly, I was able to let go enough to savor every sensation in this strange place.

More of his weight dropped to my torso, trapping my cock between us and giving me the friction that I'd need. Moments later, I whispered my warning, and Jasper sat back, taking me in hand and pumping furiously. I came across my stomach and watched as Jasper fought to not fall over the edge with me as my ass massaged his dick. He stayed inside me, knowing how much better an orgasm was with something in your ass, especially a hard, thick cock.

As my body's reaction subsided, Jasper slipped from me, and we rolled so he could lay in front of me, his back to my chest. I buried my face in his neck, losing myself in his musky scent. After a few moments of tender caressing, he turned to me, and we kissed.

"I love you."

"I love you, Jasper."

It was all quite romantic with the sunlight now streaming across the bed and lighting up the multiple colors in his blond hair. My dick quickly recovered, and I was soon kissing down his chest and stomach, moving even lower, and sucking his balls and preparing the way. He tasted amazing, and as I pressed my tongue into his smooth walls, he showed me how ready he was for me.

He lay on his back, and I rested one of his legs against my shoulder as I eased into him. Groaning, he reached for me, grasping onto any skin he could hold.

"Yeah, Edward. Please."

I knew what he wanted without him telling me, so I pounded into his ass, making his cheeks bounce. Kissing down the inside of his calf, I savored the taste of his sweaty skin before I reached for his cock, which appeared to be aching with need. I tried to give him every sensation he craved—hard and fast followed by slow and smooth, always making sure to stoke his internal ember.

What I didn't expect was the euphoric laugh that escaped me as we came together. It was such a beautiful moment and, for some reason, laughter bubbled up. Thankfully, Jasper joined in, and we kissed and smiled and laughed around each other's lips as we whispered sweet things for only us to hear.

Collapsing on the bed, we faced each other and traced the various body parts that we loved. I followed the line of his brow, cheekbone, and chin. He studied my shoulder, neck, and chest.

Our eyes closed with our soft kiss, and as we parted, there was pure silence in the room.

Solitude.

Then a distant cough.

"Okay. Great job guys. That was exquisite," a hushed, gentle voice said from beyond the gossamer hangings. We covered ourselves with a soft blanket and briefly heard muffled conversation and quiet movement outside our private cocoon but quickly returned to each other as the room emptied.

#

We watched ourselves having sex on our television in the privacy of our home, and we looked incredible. Our pale skin against the dark fabric of the bed made for exquisite contrast, and the fluttering fabric softened the mood in the room. It was beautiful, and as we closed our eyes on screen after our final kiss and the image faded to black, I turned to Jasper.

"So, what did you think? Do you have any regrets?"

"I think it was amazing, and no, not a single regret," he said with a lazy smile. His pajama pants were tented as were mine. Surprisingly, we'd kept our hands to ourselves as we watched. Well, for the most part.

"Amante Art Film destroyed every file, every tape. I watched Oliver do it," I reassured.

"I know. Dr. Victor trusts them. Oliver's company is even used for research in sex therapy, from what I understand. And I trust Rosalie and Emmett. If they used him…," he trailed off.

"Yeah, don't think about that for too long," I joked.

"Yeah. Well, like she said, now she has proof she was hot and beautiful at one time even if she claims to be fat now that she's pregnant."

It was unconventional, what we did. Far from something that most people would even consider when thinking of ways to overcome the constant recognition of your face because of porn. We, however, were not most people. But what we did, allowed Jasper to take control of his image by giving him a sense of power.

Our art film was never going to be released to the public. In fact, we went to great lengths to ensure it wouldn't, including getting lawyers involved who set up specifics on how the tapes and files would be handled, stored, and eventually destroyed. But now, if people came up to Jasper, he had a new image he could picture. He was no longer only able to think of James or Felix. Now, the image of us surrounded by diaphanous fabric and making love to each other was the first thing that came to mind. Shame was no longer his gut reaction.

Perhaps being an artist played into it as well. Jasper and I had communicated for years through visual images. They were the ones that seemed to shout to us the loudest and stick with us the longest. It was like a primary language to us.

"What we created was beautiful," I shared. "The lighting, the mood, the naked man flesh."

"Naked man flesh? My God, Edward." Jasper laughed. I followed.

"Yes. It was stunning to watch you fuck me." I was dead serious.

Unconventional but completely right for Jasper, as it turned out.

We found out how right when we visited the Museum Of Glass in Tacoma one evening in late May. As we stood on Chihuly's Bridge Of Glass mesmerized by the amorphous shapes on the ceiling of the Seaform Pavilion, a man confronted Jasper. Our arms were around each other, but I didn't feel Jasper flinch or tense at all. He simply looked at the man and smiled.

"Yes. That was me—youthful indiscretion that helped me pay for college when I lost all my financial aid."

"I enjoyed it." The man paused momentarily. "Sorry to have intruded," he said, bowing his head in what looked like embarrassment before he left us.

Jasper led us out of the covered portion of the bridge and sauntered over to the Crystal Towers that were lit up against the darkening sky. As he gazed up at the beautiful, glacial blue glass structures, I watched his face. He was serene without a hint of tension.

"You were okay with that?" I finally asked.

He turned to me and placed his palms on the small of my back.

"Yep. I have to be. It's just easier after we made our video. What that man saw was the past and now I have to focus on my future. On you."

#

A few weeks after receiving our video we had dinner at Emmett and Rosalie's new house. We were there to visit the new addition to our family, a little girl named Abigail Elise. Jasper was absolutely enamored with our niece, holding her in his large hands where she so perfectly fit. He refused to set her down while he ate, talking to her the entire time as she slept in the crook of his arm. Rosalie nearly wrestled her away from him, insisting Abigail needed to sleep in her crib. As any good uncle would do, Jasper settled her in bed and turned the light out before he left the room, joining us in the living room.

Emmett and Rose were ready to talk about anything other than Abby. They'd lived and breathed nothing but baby since she was born so Emmett, in his usual way, refused to beat around the bush and asked us about our "porn."

Jasper raised his glass and smirked before taking a deep breath and speaking. "To my beloved sister, my friend, and my partner, who suggested the most crazy-assed idea to help me overcome something that felt insurmountable. I have no idea how porn trumps porn, but in this case, it sure as hell did."

Emmett wanted to know details, but of course, we denied him any knowledge beyond what he already knew, which was a lot. After all, he'd been the one to help scout out the location for the shoot.

"Do you think it's actually helped?" Rosalie asked in all seriousness.

Jasper took a sip before he leaned back into the couch. "I didn't know if it would or not. It was my hope it would. In fact, when Edward joked about it when he was drunk, I was shocked. But then you guys mentioned you'd done this, and Dr. Victor didn't think it was an entirely foolish idea, so all of a sudden, my mind opened up. Don't get me wrong. If I could make _Broke Straight Dudes_ just go away and erase my videos from the Internet, I most definitely would. This, however, was something I did for me. I did this for us," he said as he threaded his fingers between mine. "It took those other videos and made them feel so much less significant—small—because they are.

"Now, when I'm approached, I deal with it quite easily. I don't get nervous or anxious, and my palms no longer sweat. I just smile and either admit to it or say, 'Oh? I look like someone in the porn industry? Thanks for the compliment. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm here with my boyfriend.' It's easy now.

"This time, I was in control. This time, I was able to set the stage and to choose who I was with and how I was with him. This time, I forgot the cameras were even there, and we made something beautiful I want to watch."

We were all silent for a minute before Rosalie sighed and said, "I sure hate my stretch marks. I'm so happy we did that, honey," she crooned to Emmett.

"When I get 18obs, I'll at least have proof I was fit at one point," I joked.

"So, who's up for watching the Rose and Emmett show?" Emmett said with a slap of his knee.

The three of us yelled, "No!" at the exact same moment, waking the baby.

#

I met Jasper on the front porch, unable to wait for him to get in the house.

"I have great news." I felt ready to burst with excitement.

"What? Tell me."

"This afternoon I got a call from one of the editors I used to work with at the _Times_. He's been reading _Nathaniel & Aiden_ regularly. Well, he called his friend who works for _Seattle Gay News_ who showed my site to his boss. They want to add the strip to their paper."

"Congratulations, Edward!" Jasper said with excitement and drew me into a chest-crushing hug that lifted my feet off the ground.

"But there's more."

"Go on then. Don't hold back." His smile was amazing, and my own probably mirrored the intensity of his.

"The _Times_ also wants me to consider working on an editorial cartoon that would give the gay perspective."

"See? I knew someone would pick you up. I'm so proud of you."

I laughed. "Thank you. To start, it's only going to be every few weeks or so. He knows why I didn't pursue a job there and gave me permission to draw what interests me and the people around me. That, I can do," I finished.

My dream of working in a studio in my backyard was slowly coming true. I always knew becoming an artist had it's risks, but I was willing to take those risks to be able to express myself, my thoughts, and my feelings through my hands. It was something that was innate and essential to who I was. It was the same for Jasper, and that's why we fit so well. We just got each other.

So when Jasper called me from work on a Thursday morning in late July, asking if I wanted to go backpacking in Mount Rainier National Park, I immediately said yes. There was no explanation required. I spent the rest of the day gathering equipment for our three-day hike in the South Cascades, and at first light on Friday, we drove toward the park.

We found the trail challenging, especially considering we hadn't been hiking in quite some time, but we reveled in the serenity of nature. Much of our time, we spent alone, but when other hikers crossed our path, we'd stop and talk, our fingers always finding each other's and lacing together. Our sketchbooks came out on many occasions to draw a beautiful vista or a delicate flower. Even to draw each other … as if there were any choice in the matter.

About midday on Saturday, we pulled out our handheld GPS and started searching for the real reason Jasper wanted to go hiking. He'd been tracking a certain item on the geocaching site, and it was finally near us. It landed in a cache that was less than a quarter mile from where we stood, and our excitement was palpable. The GPS led us to the base of a large evergreen just off the trail. Beneath it's canopy between two jagged rocks that were buried in the ground was a piece of bark that was decidedly not coniferous. Lifting the bark, we found a dark green metal box—the cache.

Jasper smiled like a kid in a candy store. We both sat down on the ground, and Jasper lifted the box to set it between us so we could both have a good view. Flipping the latch, he opened the hinged lid, and we peered inside.

It was there, glinting despite the shade. Jasper nodded at me, so I reached in and pulled it out.

The key we'd placed in the geocache in Italy had found its way back home to Washington—back to us. But it was no longer just our skeleton key, our small sculpture, and the trackable tag we originally placed on the keychain.

Each person who had picked up our keychain had been asked to add something from the place where they retrieved it when they logged the find into the geocaching website. There were Murano glass beads, a miniature Eiffel tower, a small bunch of grapes, a euro that had a hole drilled into it, and a tiny beer stein. People had added a wooden shoe, a Dala horse, a Mini Cooper, and the Statue of Liberty. So the keychain came into the United States via NYC.

Jasper and I talked about the places it had been and how we'd been hoping it would get to Washington before winter. It had been in many states, picking up items of interest. I pointed out the loon from Minnesota, and Jasper easily spotted the longhorn from Texas. We even saw a maple leaf. So it had been to Canada. Our trinket had moved across Europe and North America quickly.

Jasper opened a file on his cell phone that he'd downloaded the afternoon before our trip. The file contained the logs that geocachers posted on the geocaching website when they registered the trackable tag we'd slipped on the keychain. We read the logs, amazed at how our key and keychain had captured people's imaginations and generous spirits. Just after it hit US soil, someone had replaced the metal circle with a cable keychain that was not only stronger but larger. They wanted to allow room for people to keep adding until the key made it to its destination, Washington state, USA.

"It's amazing," Jasper whispered as he fingered the additions.

"I know."

"Think of all the people and lives this has touched. And it was just a key and a painting palette."

We added our names to the logbook in the geocache and left a small trinket behind, taking our keychain back to our camp.

As we walked hand in hand on the wooded path back to our camp, feeling the breeze on our faces and listening to the birds trying to find their mates, we imagined what other people had talked about as they added to our keychain.

While watching the sunset that evening, I leaned back against Jasper's solid chest, the last remaining rays of sun ebbing away. He rested his arms on his bent knees as I stretched my legs out and turned my head to meet his lips whenever I felt inspired to do so.

We sat, taking it all in, and soon, the moon rose, giving everything a silvery glow.

Listening to the rushing glacial river that ran below us, I saw in the muted light how the earth and water affected each other, directed each other, shaped one another.

"We're more connected than we realize," Jasper said, his breath warm against the skin on my cheek. His arms tightened around my chest, and I closed my eyes to the sensation of the smoldering fire inside me.

"It can make you feel so small and insignificant at times," I whispered. At that moment though, I felt content, tranquil, serene, but mostly, I felt utterly loved and supported by the man behind me. "Then there are times like now, when I realize how many threads we leave behind us. Other people occasionally pick them up and weave them with their own, and a connection is made," I mused.

Jasper hummed in agreement, pressing a kiss to my neck. "Most of the times those threads just barely touch and easily slip away. Then." He paused and placed his biceps beneath my arms before wrapping his forearms around my mine, interlacing our fingers and resting them atop his knees. "Then, on very rare occasions, two people create such a strong bond they will always be entwined with each other."

I looked to our twisted limbs and felt overwhelmed with memories—the moments when Jasper and I became knotted together.

But it came down to one moment that started it all.

"Thank you for revealing your soul to me through your sketchbook," I said into the darkness.

"Thank you for looking."

~FIN~

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**AN: **Thank you for reading, reviewing, PMing, recommending, and getting to know me. I would've never completed this without your constructive criticism, inspired reviews, and readership. My words feel inadequate, but please know, I feel this gratitude deep in my soul.

I've made some great friends because of this story, none greater than whitewave320, who PM'd me because a chapter really hit home for her and our relationship grew into an amazing friendship.

Thanks for those who helped me along the way with edits, reading, advice and their expertise: mcsc2008, rhenea5018, Touchstone67, Trish, TwilightedTyler, DrTammy1151, HereWithoutYou, BQOTFU, OnTheTurningAway, ArcadianMaggie, jazzled89, Beans827, and FarDareismai. I hope I got everyone there.

John: Thank you for keeping the house up so I could chase my muse.

Poppy: Thank you for snuggling with me, holding my hand, and allowing me to give you many, many kisses. Mama needs to do that from time to time.

Kimberly: Thank you for being my real life muse & Zoë.

Connie: Thank you for letting me vent about any and all things.

Nathaniel: Thank you for listening to everything I threw at you and for holding my hand as I published this last and final chapter.

If you feel inspired, I'd love to hear your feedback. It means so much to me, even if I'm unable to get back to you.

Thanks for reading.

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**Edit: 3/8/2012**


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